


don't you know you've got the best of me?

by raquians



Series: all that you are is all i'll ever need [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (just gonna get that out of the way now), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Rewrite, F/M, Falling In Love, Fred Weasley Lives, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gen, Growing Up, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2019-11-08 05:39:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 57,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17975480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raquians/pseuds/raquians
Summary: "Hogwarts or no Hogwarts, you'll never just suddenly belong in the Muggle world, because it was never yours. The Wizarding world has just been waiting for you to arrive."Hermione stares at Fred, shocked in to silence. She's not sure what to say, or if she should say anything at all. She's touched, of course. It's the most blatant acceptance in to the magical world—in to any world—that she's received, excluding only her Hogwarts Letter. This might even beat that. Even while she doesn't quite believe it and worries that the next time she doesn't know an answer to a professor's question they'll dub her a failure and kick her out, she's still thankful for it.Instead of trying to put that in to words, she smiles at him. Her smile stretches across her entire face until she's beaming.He offers one back, and then he's gone.*\(or: the rewrite of the books where the twins befriend hermione early on. some things change, some things stay the same, some things... do a little bit of both.)





	1. i don't know where it starts (but it ends with you and me)

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is a monster (at least for me). When I was about 18k in, I looked at the word count, and then the story, which wasn’t even a quarter of the way done. But I’ve always wanted a fic of all seven years as if Hermione had befriended the twins early on and ends up with Fred, and I’ve yet to find one that has been completed… so I made my own. 
> 
> And if you’re worried this one will be abandoned just like the others I mentioned: the majority is already written, I estimate I only have about 10-20k more to go (maybe more, I'm really not sure. I always am surprised with how many words end up on a page). I wasn't planning to post this until I was finished, but I have no fear of not completing this. This ship is so near and dear to my heart, I don't think y'all can understand. Fred Weasley is my favorite character ever (I've written four scholastic essays on his character), and Hermione is also very near and dear to my heart. I've waited for a fic like this for Fremione for years and haven't gotten one, so I'm writing it, and I'm going to see it through. 
> 
> I wanted to post this now, because I've been so anxious to post it since I've started it. You can probably expect an update every 2-4 weeks. College is honestly my only hold up right now, so... it'll depend on how busy classes are going. I want to give myself a reasonable amount of time to complete the rest, and not rush posting the other chapters and then leave you waiting five months for the last three chapters. 
> 
> My current goal is to have to fully published by the end of June. Classes end late May, so I'd have about a month and a half to finish what isn't finished if I don't have it complete by then. 
> 
> I will say now that Fred does survive the battle in this fic. (I mean, he survives it anyway despite those nasty rumors that he doesn’t, but you know. Just in case you were worried that you might throw your phone/computer against a wall when reading his death scene like a totally normal person would if he had died in Deathly Hallows, haha right????????) 
> 
> Now that that spoiler is out of the way: 
> 
> This fic is written in eight chapters. One chapter for each book, and one chapter for an epilogue. Each chapter will range from 10-20k. 
> 
> Please understand that there will be some significant changes, made more so in the later years. The overall plots will remain the same, but other things are adjusted according to the progression and nature of the twins’ and Hermione’s relationship. 
> 
> There will ALSO be small changes. Ones that you notice and you might be like “that’s not the right line!” I assure you, if I had meant to write the correct quote from the book, I would have. But some scenes had to be changed by only a word or two. 
> 
> Also, I do summarize some stuff that happens in the book. If you want to read about the events from the book, go read the books. I don’t want to rehash them—it’s a bit like beating a dead horse. You’ve all read the books/seen the movies probably multiple times, you don’t need to read about the same things you already have; the only parts of the books I will really be repeating are ones that I’ve changed or added to or wanted to get inside Hermione's head for, otherwise it’ll just be a summary or time skip. 
> 
> I also want to add that there will be NO Ron bashing or evil!Ron like many Fremione stories have. He may be jealous, over react to certain things, and say Not So Great things occasionally, but that’s who he is. He’s going through the same process of growing up in this fic that he did in the actual series, so he’s still going to be the one who says “spew” and has a sudden realization that Hermione is a girl, and so on and so forth. That by no means makes him evil or awful. Ron has always been first and foremost her friend, even before they fell in love in the books. He will continue to be, even if he has to have a little fit first. 
> 
> This follows the books but you will very, VERY occasionally see scenes that are unique to the movies. Thinking on it, I can only think of three scenes in this entire fic that are movie related. With the last bit that I have to write still, there may be a bit more from the movies that I add, but I'm not counting on it. 
> 
> Fic title is from Since We’re Alone – Niall Horan. Chapter titles are all going to be Niall Horan lyrics as well. Tbh I just think his music fits this ship really well. 
> 
> * posted to ffnet under the same username.

_**book i.** _

"So I'm a witch?"

"Precisely," the woman—Professor McGonagall she calls her self—nods. "You've noticed odd things happening around you?"

"Yes, I have. Making people trip or items come to me or—"

"Hermione," her mother cuts her off, voice high and tight. Panicked.

"Oh, don't worry about it," Professor McGonagall smiles at her mum. "When children find out they're not alone it's a relief and it all comes out at once."

Her parents eye the woman suspiciously, but Hermione is ecstatic. "So when can I go?"

"Now, Hermione—" her dad begins.

Professor McGonagall holds up her hand. She smiles at Hermione. "You'll be joining next years class—so next September you can join us." She turns to Hermione's parents and pulls out a stick? Or—a wand! She flicks it and one of the items she had set on their table transforms into a book. "This is for you two. It's a brief guide explaining what Hogwarts is and what we teach and the issues that can arise if your daughter does not learn to control her magic."

And so begins a whirlwind of a year—reading every book her parents allow her to buy that first day at Diagon Alley, waving her wand about, ignoring her classmates since she doesn't need them to like her anymore—not when she is going to have friends that appreciate her by this time next year.

So months pass. Christmas passes with even more books that McGonagall helps her parents find, Valentine's passes with her receiving only the worst of Valentine's cards from her classmates ("my parents made me" Ashley Dune sneers, handing her a crumpled card, and the piece of candy that's attached to it is clearly pulverized beneath the wrapper), and a tearful good bye to all of her teachers in June passes when she tells them she'll be going to a gifted school next year (none of them are surprised, but they don't know what  _kind_  of gift).

Summer seems to go by too quickly and too slowly all at once until finally ( _finally!_ ) she is boarding the Hogwarts Express, barely even remembering to look back to say good bye to her parents.

She steers clear of everyone for the initial boarding, choosing instead to observe and find people to avoid. She's read about the Houses—she's not looking forward to seeing any Slytherins, not with her lineage. She finds a compartment with one other boy, around her age, and another girl either her age, or maybe a year older.

When they're about halfway through the journey, the boy sitting next to her starts looking around the compartment frantically. "Oh  _no_ ," he moans.

Hermione frowns. "What? What's happened?"

"Did you notice Trevor leaving?"

"Trevor?" she asks. There hadn't been another boy in the compartment with them, had there?

"My toad! Oh, don't worry yourself with it, I've just got to—"

"No! I'll help look! Trevor, you say?"

She helps the boy who tells her his name is Neville, despite being laughed at and picked on in half of the compartments she enters.

"Excuse me, have you seen a toad, by chance?"

The entire cabin looks up at her. There's two identical red headed boys, a black boy with dreadlocks, a pale girl with short, shiny black hair, a girl with her hair pulled in to a pony tail framing her olive-toned face, and a black girl with voluminous curls. They all look settled in a way that every other first year has decidedly  _not_ , so she decides they must be second years or above. They don't look terribly old—perhaps second or third years?

She entirely expects them to ridicule her, just like the last few compartments, particularly the one she stopped at just before—a silver-haired boy who had asked if she'd known who he was. (He had told her right after, and she had left right after.)

"A  _toad_  you say?" one of the red heads asks.

"Yes," she nods, her tone defensive. "He's called Trevor. I'm not sure if that's important; I can't imagine a toad knowing its name, so it's not as if it'd be able to tell you his name or as though you can  _call_  to it…"

"No, I don't imagine you can," the ponytail girl says, a small laugh escaping. Her eyes remain kind, thankfully. "Have you lost yours?"

"Oh, no. Neville has."

"Sorry," the shorthaired girl apologizes. "If he comes in here we'll come find you, alright?"

She smiles and nods in thanks. "Could I possibly ask what House you're in?"

She directs the question at the girls, but one of the red-headed twins answers with a quick "Gryffindor." The other one looks up at her. "Why?"

"I'm just trying to get an idea of what kind of people belong to which House."

The olive-skinned girl grins. "Are we a good or bad people?"

"Good," Hermione smiles. "Thank you, and please do find me if you see Trevor."

*\

The rest of the train ride passes quickly—she meets Harry Potter but he and his friend seem like they don't care to talk with her. She's learned well enough when she's not wanted, and Harry may not have been giving off the signals she knew, but Ron certainly had been.

Less than an hour after pulling up at the Hogwarts Station, she was sitting on a stool place before the entire Great Hall eagerly.

"You think you could do well in Gryffindor?" the hat asks as it is placed on her head.

She frowns, both at the immediate intrusion in to her mind and at the question asked. "Do you think I would not?"

"I think you'd be welcome in Ravenclaw," the hat says.

"I don't want to be where I'm welcome, I want to be where I'm meant to be."

She feels the hat shift on her head— _actually_  shifts, like it's uncomfortable. "I didn't mean it quite like that…"

"Then why did you say that?"

"Hmm," it deliberates. "You're smart—intelligent beyond your years. You have more of a thirst for knowledge than for adventure. But, oh, that courage. You may not seek adventure but you wouldn't turn from it, would you?"

Hermione doesn't say anything directly to the hat, though she knows it will still hear. She just—isn't sure about what she'd do if adventure crossed her path. She thinks she might run from it. She thinks she might run to it. She thinks it might depend on the circumstances—what if running to it got her in trouble?

"So worried about self-preservation? My, my, how very  _Slytherin_  of you…"

" _No!_  Well, yes, but… But what if… what about the others getting in trouble, too? I would never want to get another in trouble or be the reason they're hurt or punished or anything of that sort," Hermione ponders.

"… very Hufflepuff of you, now, that loyalty, and wanting to keep things just."

"Oh, please, stop joking around, you know you're not going to sort me in to Slytherin or Hufflepuff."

The hat makes an amused noise. "And why is that?"

"I'm not patient, I don't welcome everyone in—"

"Ah, but you're passionate and committed and loyal, are you not?"

"You're the one inside my head," she snaps, starting to lose her cool, "you tell me."

"I would, but we don't have time—you have a myriad of qualities within you, Hermione Granger. That loyalty I mentioned is not out of place in Gryffindor, either. But such  _talent_... It'd be a shame for Ravenclaw to miss out on your abilities."

"You're deciding where I'm going to sleep, not who gets to use and control me! Ravenclaw wouldn't miss out on anything because my abilities are mine alone, no matter where I go, even if you put me in Slytherin where I'll be an outcast because of my parents."

The hat was silent for a long moment. "You're an interesting one," it admits, "but I am not just deciding where you sleep."

"Yes, I understand, you're deciding what my values are—bravery or creativity? Am I chivalrous or wise? Where I'm  _meant to be_  like I told you before. That still doesn't mean that those Houses get to  _use_  me."

"Do you know of the House Cup?" the hat questions.

She scoffs. "Of course. I  _have_  read  _Hogwarts: A History_."

"Then do your House points you earn mean nothing to you? Do you not think they should count—you should not contribute to your House by using your knowledge and wit?"

"Well… that's not the same as  _using_  me—that's benefiting from me."

"You  _do_  like to get technical, don't you? Not everything has to be taken so literal. Tell me, in the end, would you rather be left with your bravery or mind?"

Hermione scowls. "But how can that be answered? If I was left with bravery I'd have my mind to help me make decisions because bravery isn't the same as stupidity. And if I had my mind I'd be able to choose when to be brave."

"My, my, my," the hat grumbles, "you're the trickiest one I've had to sort in two decades. What do you feel in your heart is the right choice for you?"

Without her permission,  _Gryffindor_  floats to the top of her mind. She tries to back track—she wants to consider her choices. Ravenclaw  _wouldn't_  be bad at all, what if that's where she's meant to—

"I did not want you to think on it— _thank_ you for not thinking 'both' like the last person I asked that question to—your answer is clear enough, you will be—"

" _GRYFFINDOR!_ " She realizes suddenly that the voice hadn't come from inside her head this time—it had been shouted clear across the Great Hall. Professor McGonagall lifts the hat from Hermione's head and smiles down at her. Hermione is just relieved that it's over. She smiles back at the professor and rushes over to the cheering table.

She takes a seat and frowns, watching the student after her being sorted before she's even sat. She looks to the red head across from her. "Does all the conversation in your head go much faster than it seems?"

The red head looks from the unsorted group to Hermione. "What d'you mean?"

"Well… they're all being sorted so quick… I hadn't paid much attention to the time going by while I was waiting my turn, but I feel like I was up there forever!"

"You were," a voice chimes in from her left—multiple spaces for other students to sit between them. She looks at him.

"You're one of the boys from the train."

He cocks an eyebrow. She looks past him to see the other identical boy. She realizes the entire group from that compartment is in that area. From a ways down the table, the girl with the pony tail spots her and smiles. Hermione smiles back, but they're too far apart to speak with each other without causing a scene. The twin that hasn't spoken yet laughs quietly. "Normally I'd point out that every bloke in here was on that train so that'd be a vague statement, but I'll allow it—yeah. Did you find Trevor?"

Hermione nods. "Yes! Right as we were unloading, Hagrid found him for Neville!"

"That's good," the first twin smiles. "I'm George, by the way."

"Fred," the second one greets. "And you, Hermione, were up there for almost four and a half minutes. That's not quite common."

"At all," George adds.

"Oh, hush," the older looking red head sitting across from her snaps at the twins. "Don't mind them—it's not common but it's not unheard of. They're called hatstalls when you're up there for over five minutes. There hasn't been one in quite some time."

"That's what it said! Two decades!" she cries in a hushed voice. "Is there something the matter with me?"

"No, not at all," the red head says. "It just had a hard time putting you in a House, didn't it? It happens sometimes if a person has qualities for multiple Houses. I'm Percy, by the way, pleasure to meet you." He sticks a hand out and Hermione shakes it.

"So where did it want to put you?" George asks.

Hermione grimaces. "It  _mentioned_  every House as a possibility, but I think it was only  _really_  considering Ravenclaw and Gryffindor."

" _Every House?_ " Fred says, and his eyebrows disappear beneath the hair falling over his forehead.

"Yes, but I think Hufflepuff and Slytherin were just in passing. Actually, I think the Slytherin was a joke—it  _must_  have been—there are no other witches or wizards in my family and I hear they don't like that."

"Thank Merlin you're not in Slytherin, they're horrid—"

"Oh, quiet," hisses Percy. "We don't have to go around advertising what they make clear on their own and risk losing House Points before we even  _have_  any!"

"This one is taking a while, too," George says, looking up at the stool where the Sorting Hat was perched on a boy's head. "Just over two minutes, now."

"Blimey, what's with Ol' Sorty? Is he losing his touch?" Fred says.

"Think he'll take more time to sort than our lovely Granger over here?" George asks.

"Not a chance," Fred shakes his head. "That kid has Hufflepuff written all over—"

" _GRYFFINDOR!_ "

The Sorting Hat actually sounds a little huffy; she wonders if the Hat deemed the boy up there now as difficult as her, or even worse. Professor McGonagall lifts the hat from the boy's head and he looks terrified. It's Neville, the boy with the lost toad. Hermione feels relief at having at least one friend in her House.

"Think you're better than the Sorting Hat, do you?" Hermione quips, and Fred looks at her challengingly while Neville scurries to the table and takes a seat on Percy's side.

Professor McGonagall calls up a boy called MacDougal and Fred glances at him. "Ravenclaw."

"Second that," George nods.

Hermione looks up at the boy. "Gryffindor," she decides.

"There are no wagers involved here, correct?" Percy asks from across from her. "Because if there are—"

"Not at all!" Hermione frowns. "I would never."

Percy eyes her, but seems to accept her answer, just as the Sorting Hat calls out " _RAVENCLAW!_ "

Fred and George grin at her. She scowls.

The next boy up (Macmillan, Ernest) sits down on the chair, his head high. "Slytherin," Fred and George say simultaneously.

Hermione studies him as the hat is placed on his head. His shoulders are tight, and his fists clenched—he's very nervous. "Hufflepuff," she guesses, mainly to spite them, but she also thinks it's a possibility. She starts sliding down the bench, closer to the twins, feeling bad for the others around her having to listen to them talking. Once she's seated next to George and across from Percy, the hat decides.

" _HUFFLEPUFF!_ " it cries. Hermione bites her lip to stop from smiling too wide when the twins frown at her.

When Professor McGonagall calls up Malfoy, Draco, she scowls when she sees the silver-haired boy. "Slytherin," she says with no hesitation.

"No doubt," the twins agree. When the hat barely touches the boy's head before calling out the green House, they all grin.

Malone, Roger was up next. "Hufflepuff," Hermione says.

"Gryffindor," Fred says.

George frowns. "I'm going with Hermione on this one."

Fred gasps, and throws his hand over his heart. " _How could you?_ "

(They're all wrong, he's Ravenclaw.)

They carry on like that for the rest of the sorting. Once the sorting is done and Dumbledore has spoken, they turn to the black girl from the train that had started keeping tally of who had correctly sorted the students; Hermione has beaten them by a hair.

"Rematch, same time, same place, next year," Fred demands.

She rolls her eyes. "You're on."

"We'll have the entire year to sort," George says. "Not just everyone you got to know while you were waiting."

"I did not cheat!" She doesn't say that others don't want to talk to her so she couldn't have cheated, but she thinks it. She isn't in the habit of fooling herself.

"Guess we'll find out next year, won't we?" Fred grins.

She nods. "We will."

Across from her, a ghost tips his head off his shoulders, until it's hanging on barely more than a string. She stares, then looks to the twins, Percy, the girls she met on the train in confusion. Is this normal? Is this common? She thinks it must be.

This is her new world.

*\

It is Wednesday—three days in to term, four days since she had arrived—when she first makes her way up to the Owlery. McGonagall had given her a map of how to get there, but she'd still had to work up the courage to venture out on her own. The letter she had written has been taunting her for over 36 hours at this point, so she dug the map from the trunk and wandered out of the castle towards the Owlery.

"—shrink it then we'll have to wait until we're seventeen to unshrink it!"

"If we leave it normal Mum is going to see it for sure and we'll be done for."

"… alright, then.  _Reducio!_ "

Hermione peaks around the corner. One of the twins (George, she thinks, since his robes are actually buttoned up) picks up an object off of the window's ledge and holds it up. It looks like a white, mini horseshoe. "Maybe we could get Bill to put it back when he comes to visit?"

"Brilliant," the other one nods. He looks around, up at the owls. "Now where's Thief? He's always been Ginny's favorite."

Hermione thinks it's safe to go in now. She reaches in her bag for her letter and grabs a treat from the bowl to lure an owl towards her. A medium sized tawny owl swoops down to her and perches on the stand in front of her. She feeds it the treat and smiles when it lets her stroke its feathers.

"That's Gwen."

Hermione yelps and jumps. The owls around her all fluff their feathers in surprise. She looks over her shoulder. One of the twins is grinning at her. She turns around to face him. From where she is now, she can see both of their faces, their shoulders, their nuances. Her eyes flick between them for a moment before she settles. Fred. Fred is the one standing next to her. She looks back at the owl, and then to Fred again. "Gwen?"

"Yep," he says. "She's not as quick as some of the others, but she's much nicer. Likes people quite a bit. You're a Muggle-born, right?" She nods, wary of where he's going with this. "I'll bet your parents will appreciate her. She's rather underwhelming. Doesn't demand treats like some of the others, is patient—lots of Muggle parents need that because it can take them hours to find where the tapping is coming from."

Hermione smiles at the owl. "You sound lovely," she tells Gwen.

"Why thank you," Fred smirks.

Hermione scowls at him. "Oh, I'm sorry, Fred, I actually wasn't speaking to  _you_."

"Right, that," George joins the conversation from across the room. There's a screech owl perched in front of him. "That was clearly directed at me."

"She wasn't even facing you," Fred argues.

"I wasn't facing you either," she says. Her voice doesn't sound as defiant as she'd like because, well, she's quite proud of herself for correctly identifying the twins.

"You weren't facing  _away_  from m—"

"Gwen," Hermione says, cutting him off. "Can you deliver this to my parents? I appreciate it."

Gwen fluffs her feathers and clicks her beak a few times before hopping to the window and out, spreading her wings as she jumps. She's gone.

"Now that she's out of our company we can get back to my loveliness," Fred says.

" _My_  loveliness!" George yells.

"Neither of you are lovely," she says. "What've you got there, anyway?"

Identical grins grow on their faces. "A gift for our little sister. She'll be here next year, you see, but we wanted her to have a little piece of Hogwarts with her," Fred tells her.

"So we stole a toilet seat," George says.

"You  _what?_ "

"From one of the old, run down bathrooms that hasn't been used in ages, yeah. It's not that hard," Fred laughs. "You just—"

"But you  _stole_  Hogwarts property!" she gasps. "And why on  _earth_  would you send a  _toilet seat_  to your sister?"

"Because we told her we would." George says.

"Why would you  _tell_  her you would?"

"Why wouldn't we?"

Hermione opens her mouth—but she can't come up with anything. Stealing was her only  _actual_  defense but if they'd gone to a dilapidated, unused bathroom for it… she really didn't have an objection. Though it was still stealing. And why a  _toilet_ seat?

"Why a toilet seat?"

"Why not a toilet seat?" Fred counters.

Hermione frowns.

That's one way of looking at it.

Fred and George have a lot of ways of looking at a lot of things. She doesn't know most of them, because she doesn't know them, but she thinks she can appreciate what she does know.

*\

Meals aren't anything special. She sits just separated from the first years with a book sitting open next to her plate, picking at the variety of food that shows up on the tables and drinking out of her unnecessarily fancy goblet. Depending on where her classmates sit, she either gets to listen to Ron and Harry complaining, Neville worrying about something with someone, Dean and Seamus bickering, or Lavender and Parvati gossiping. (Her other two dorm mates—Sally and Sophie—don't seem to sit at the Gryffindor table too often. She thinks Sally has a sibling in Hufflepuff, but she isn't certain.) Other times she'll sit nearer Percy. When she does, he's always happy to speak with her about her classes and reminisce his own first year.

Sometimes, though, she skips meals all together in favor of spending time at the library. After the night she had last night—the late night rendezvous with Harry, Ron, and Neville that she had little to no say in—she had no desire to take part in any social activity today.

No such luck.

"Heard you think getting expelled is worse than getting  _killed_ , Granger."

Hermione looks up from her books and frowns. One of the twins stands in front of her, leaning his hands on the back of a chair. He's rapping his fingers against the wood—not anxiously, not nervously, just… restless, like he has too much energy stored up in his body and needs an outlet. She stares up at his face for a moment. Merlin, she can't for the life of her tell which one is which unless they're both in front of her. She needs to work on that.

She turns back to her book and shrugs. "Most people might if their choice was dying in this world or getting sent back to mine."

There's a punch of air from above her, and the finger drumming stops. "Well that's one way to look at it," the twin says, shifting awkwardly. He pulls the chair out and takes a seat across from her. "Muggle life is really that bad?"

She considers. "Well, not exactly. It's actually quite better in some areas."

"So why—"

"If you think I'm an outcast here, this is nothing compared to my—my Muggle school. I'm not sure if you're aware, but  _know-it-alls_  typically aren't liked anywhere," she explains. "On top of that, I was a ' _freak_ ' there because strange things always happened around me when I couldn't control my magic and the teasing got particularly bad. But at least at Hogwarts I have professors that like me—for the most part—and new things to learn," she gestures around the library, "and. Well. Percy talks to me."

"What are George and I doing, then?" he asks. Fred, then.

Hermione shrugs. "Indulging me?"

A grin stretches across the boys face. "So talking to us is something you find pleasurable?"

She frowns and bites out a quick "no."

"Ah, but Granger," Fred sing-songs, "isn't that the, let's say  _text book_ , definition of indulge? And we know how you love your text books…" He turns to a row of shelves behind him. "Georgie! Come back me up!"

Another ginger head pops out, three rows down. He's balancing three books in his arms and nods at Hermione. "I agree with Fred."

Fred turns back to Hermione with a smug look on his face. "See?"

" _First of all_ , George didn't even know what he was agreeing to," she points out. " _Secondly_ , talking to  _anyone_  is nice, as I don't get to do it much. I'll settle for  _anyone_ , I'll have you know. Third, how do you even know the text book definition of indulge?"

The grin slips off of Fred's face, only to be replaced by something that looks like pity. Oh, no. That is the  _last_  thing she wants, because the twins have always spoken to her by their own choice, and she can't have it that they only do so because they feel  _bad_. It was meant to be a  _joke_  anyways—surely he didn't think she'd settle for anyone, not when cruel kids like Draco Malfoy roamed the halls.

"Well, you guys at least talk back," she shrugs with a clearly sarcastic grin, hoping he'll pick up on her attempt at another joke. "And people think  _I_  like the sound of  _my_  voice. Merlin, have they met you?"

Fred still looks upset.

So. Jokes. Not her strong point.

Fred opens his mouth, but Hermione holds up a hand. "I don't care what you've taken from whatever I just said. I'm  _happy_  here, Fred Weasley. Don't feel the need to indulge me." She closes the book she was reading. "Now, if you don't mind terribly, I think I'm going to go finish this book elsewhere."

Fred nods and offers her a smile. Against her better judgment, she returns it.

Fred gets up while she's packing up her books, and turns to leave. He hesitates. "Hermione?"

"Hm?"

"They can't just send you back to your old world. This is your world, too. It's not… temporary." He shifts his weight and stares at her with a meaningful look in his eye. "Hogwarts or no Hogwarts, you'll never just suddenly belong in the Muggle world, because it was never yours. The Wizarding world has just been waiting for you to arrive."

Hermione stares at the teenager, shocked in to silence. She's not sure what to say, or if she should say anything at all. She's touched, of course. It's the most blatant acceptance in to the magical world—in to  _any_  world—that she's received, excluding only her Hogwarts Letter. This might even beat that. Even while she doesn't quite believe it and worries that the next time she doesn't know an answer to a professor's question they'll dub her a failure and kick her out, she's still thankful for it.

Instead of trying to put that in to words, she smiles at him. Her smile stretches across her entire face until she's beaming—like a ray of sun finally finding a path through the crowded foliage to the forest floor, spreading warmth as it goes.

He offers one back, and then he's gone.

She  _belongs_.

*\

See, the thing about Fred and George is that, well. She lets her guard down around them. She's not quite sure why—it might be because they take so little seriously and she feels they won't take her problems seriously, either. That's clearly not the case.

It's the second Saturday in the term, the day after their talk in the library, that they claim her. She is walking in to the Great Hall for lunch (she hadn't gone to breakfast so she could get a head start on her essay for Professor Binns that was due next Thursday) when, half way down the Gryffindor table, a hand shoots out to pull her in. She squeaks as she stumbles towards the bench and collides with a hard body. She opens her mouth to scold her attacker, but freezes when she looks up and finds a red-haired twin grinning down at her. She looks behind the twin and finds the other, who she immediately identifies as Fred.

"George!" she huffs angrily, ripping her arm out of his grasp. This causes her to fall closer to the bench, landing uncomfortably on the corner of the seat. She glares up at the boy. "What do you want?"

"Your company," he says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Hermione turns her glare on Fred. "I  _told_  you—"

"We're indulging  _ourselves_ ," he smirks from behind his brother.

She turns to see who is around them, and relaxes when she finds only Lee Jordan, Katie Bell, and Alicia Spinnet. All of them have either been completely nice to her, or simply ignored her. Alicia even goes as far to offer her a kind smile right now, even though Hermione is fighting down the urge to rub her bottom, where she's quite certain a bruise is forming.

George reaches down and lifts her legs, spinning her around on the bench so they're tucked under the table and she's left staring at the food in front of her.

"But—I had a question for—"

"You can talk to Percy another time," George waves her off.

Fred nods. "All you have to do is spin three times in front of a mirror and say 'perfect prefect Percy' and he'll appear."

Hermione resists the urge to roll her eyes. Accepting her fate, she starts reaching for food to pile on her plate. "Did you know that that tale actually got passed to Muggles?"

"What tale?" Alicia wonders from across the table.

Hermione startles. She hadn't expected the others to actually engage with her. "Well, the Bloody Mary tale. It started out with seers, they could look into a mirror and see either their husband's face or the grim reaper if they'd die before they married. It then became more wide spread, and used to see the general future, not just future spouses. Sometime in the 19th century Muggles, started using it, though they obviously couldn't actually see anything or anyone. It was just tricks of the light. Only true seers can perform that ritual, anyways. In Muggle culture today it's a game of sorts, to scare people by telling them she might scratch their eyes out. It's just curious as to how it transferred over to Muggle culture."

Katie grimaces. "Well let's hope Percy doesn't show up in your mirror then," she says. "You deserve better than him."

"What's wrong with Percy?" Hermione frowns. Percy is smart and focused and determined and not that Hermione  _likes_  him  _likes_  him and would  _want_  him to be her future spouse, but if they don't like Percy… how could they possibly like her?

"Can't take a prank," Fred tells her.

"Doesn't know a joke," George chimes in.

"Cares more about the rules than Dumbledore."

"May not know how to smile, research on that one is still on going."

"Cares more about the rules than  _Mum_."

"Smells a bit weird, that one."

"Probably sat on his wand, if the stick up his a—"

"Alright," Alicia cuts Fred off, ignoring a cackling Lee next to her. She turns to Hermione. "Percy is smart and helpful, but he cares more about himself than anything else. That's his prerogative, but as Gryffindors we all have a habit of reckless loyalty to our closest friends, and sometimes strangers. His extreme self-preservation is not something we personally appreciate; it's not a common trait in this House." She takes a bite of her chicken and points her fork at Hermione. "He's not like you, for example. Ron and Harry have been utter prats to you, and you still tried to help them."

Hermione's face goes up in flames, thinking about how she would have ratted them out had they been caught. Sure, it was mainly to stop them from losing House Points, but she wouldn't have hesitated. "Well—"

"She's right," Lee grins. "Me? I appreciate what Ron and Harry did—even if it was a stupid idea. But I'm good at stupid ideas, personally. I excel at them. Now, if I had someone like you to help me out? Maybe I wouldn't land on my arse  _as_  much."

"Lee!" Katie huffs. "Language!"

"Oh—c'mon, she's  _eleven_ , for Merlin's sake! I don't think  _arse_  is going to bother her too much."

"I'm twelve, actually," Hermione murmurs, staring down at her plate.

She can see George turn his body to face her out of the corner of her eye.

"Really?" he asks, excited. "Since when?"

"Well, I'm not yet, exactly."

Alicia smiles at her. "It's gotta be soon if you corrected him, yeah?"

"Yeah," Fred echoes. "When is it?"

"The 19th."

"Oi! Why'd you never say?" Fred croons, ignoring the fact that they've only just become friends and she never had a chance to tell them before. "We need to celebrate!"

"No—"

"Shush, shush," George says, waving a hand in dismissal. Her jaw drops at him, half in shock, half in annoyance. She turns to Alicia who laughs and shrugs. It's not a laugh at Hermione's expense. It's a laugh directed at the situation, at George flapping his hand around and shushing the first year. It's friendly, and almost sympathetic. And when Hermione joins in, it's  _shared_. This might be the first time Hermione has laughed  _with_  someone at this school, and it feels so incredibly nice. She knows from this one time that she doesn't want to go back to not having anyone to laugh with.

To her right, George and Fred have their heads bent together with Lee leaning over the table to join in the conversation. She feels awkward for just a moment, now that the twins are preoccupied and she's sitting with two girls she hardly knows. The moment doesn't last long, however, as Katie turns to Hermione. "How do you like classes so far?" she asks. "Last year was so overwhelming for me."

Hermione glances down to where Harry, Ron, and the other first years are sitting, and doesn't feel rejected, for the first time. She doesn't need them. She turns back to Katie.

*\

"Hermione," Lavender calls. Hermione looks up. Lavender and Parvati are sitting on Parvati's bed, their heads clearly having popped up from being bent together in their nightly gossip routine. "Did you really sit with the third years today?"

She frowns. Were they gossiping about  _her?_  "Some of them, and Katie," she frowns.

"But why would you… Are you friends with them?" Parvati asks.

"Yes, I suppose so."

Lavender gasps. "How did you do it?"

"Pardon me?"

"Make friends with them, how did you? You're not—or, I mean,  _they're_  not…"

Hermione scoffs. "Please, just because you two don't like me doesn't mean no one else does. Fred and George sat with me in the library one day and then introduced me to their friends." She doesn't mention that they sat with her in the library yesterday and introduced her to their friends just at lunch today.

Lavender squeals. " _They_  approached  _you?_ "

"Yes."

"Oh! Hermione, you  _must_  tell us about them," Parvati says excitedly. "Are the twins really as dreamy as everyone says?"

"Is Lee Jordan as charming as they say?" Lavender adds on.

"What about—"

"Enough!" Hermione snaps. "I'm not going to  _gossip_  about my  _friends_  to the likes of  _you_. Some of us happen to like them because of their hearts and personality rather than their reputations and popularity. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed."

*\

She spends all of her free time split between the library and her group of friends. They've joined her in the library three times now—once just the girls, once the twins, and once the entire group—but they typically spend their time together in the Great Hall, or the Common Room, or by the lake. She learns more about the wizarding world each day—of the schools spread far and wide, the secrets both pure and dark, the wonders… that are mostly dangerous, but still wondrous.

Each day she fits more and more nicely into this world she's found herself in, and she doesn't ever want to leave.

That Thursday, which she had expected to pass quietly with no more than a note from her parents, does not pass quietly.

Shortly after Hermione has woken up and showered for the day, her dorm door bursts open. From behind their curtains where they had likely still been asleep, Hermione hears Lavender and Sophie screech, and confused mumblings coming from Parvati and Sally's beds. Hermione looks at the door, shocked to see Alicia, Katie, and Angelina standing there. They look just as shocked to see her out of bed.

"Bloody hell, 'Mione," Alicia groans. "What time did you get up?"

"Quarter 'til seven?"

Alicia looks at Angelina and Katie. "She's making us look bad, girls."

"We can't have that, can we?" Angelina frowns. Despite having only met her officially three days ago (since she'd been working with Oliver and Harry on Quidditch over the weekend), Hermione is almost equally as close to Angelina as she is with Alicia and Katie. Angelina throws herself in to everything she does—including friendships.

Katie gives her a contemplative look. "Well. Maybe  _today_  we can. You know. Special occasion and all."

"Right, right," Alicia snaps her fingers. "Myron Wagtail's birthday is a time for celebration, not competition."

Hermione tilts her head. "Myron…  _Wagtail?_ "

Angelina gasps, dramatically covering her heart with a hand. "Herms!  _Don't_  tell me you haven't heard of The Weird Sisters?"

"Can't say I have," she says with a small laugh.

The girls all stare at her, and then look to each other. "Alright," Alicia decides. She walks over to Hermione and, with a flick of her wand, dries the young witch's hair. "You're not getting all of your gifts today because we hadn't realized you needed The Weird Sisters album. Now get your shoes on, the boys are waiting for us."

"They're actually awake?" Hermione asks disbelievingly. Still, she reaches under her bed and pulls out her shoes to slip on.

"Of course," Angelia says. "We need all of breakfast for you to get through your presents."

"Oh no."

"Oh  _yes_ ," Alicia says. She picks up Hermione's wand off of the bedside table and thrusts it into her friend's hands. "Let's  _go_."

The three of them drag her down to the common room where, upon stepping off the last step to the dorms, an explosion of fireworks goes off just a few meters in front of her. She yelps loudly and stumbles backwards, but Angelina catches her with a laugh. Hermione stares at the fireworks, which are flying around in a two meter allotted area, spelling out a colorful 'Happy Birthday, Hermione!'

She stares at the words for a long moment before her gaze shifts to the three bodies standing off to the right, beaming at her. Fred, George, and Lee look immensely proud of themselves and Hermione really, really wants to cry.

She runs past the firework display and launches herself at the boys, struggling to get them all in to her short, twelve year-old arms. They scoot in closer so they can hold her too, laughing all the while and wishing her happy birthday. That's when she does start crying. Just a few tears, mind you, but she has to reach up and wipe them away, still.

"I think those are good tears," Lee guesses, and Hermione laughs. She nods at him. "Well then I'm glad."

Hermione wipes at her cheeks again, blushing. "I'm so sorry, I don't know why I'm—I'm not usually like this," she tries.

She's not. She's really, really not the type of person to cry at a kind gesture, or in front of anyone at all. But, see, this is the first time anyone besides her parents have willingly gone out of their way to celebrate her birthday—if you don't count her primary school teachers making the rest of her class sing to her, that is. When she was younger she had children from her school and dance classes (for the two years she attended those dance classes, before realizing they were really not meant for her) attend her birthday parties like everyone did. But then, when she was eight, she had asked her parents to not throw a party, as everyone tended to group off in to groups that didn't involve her, and even at her young age it made her miserable.

This group, though… The fireworks can't have been simple magic. She's fairly certain the twins bought them at a joke shop, but to charm them to spell out a message was no simple feat, let alone for three third years. That they had done so in only five days since they learned her birthday made her feel like they truly wanted her to enjoy her day and celebrate with her.

Fred slings an arm over her shoulder. He helps wipe her cheeks of any tears and smiles brightly at her. "Not a worry, we'll get you to cry more tears of joy yet."

They make their way to the Great Hall, Fred's arm remaining around her shoulders the entire way.

"We had the kitchens make your favorite," Alicia grins as they settle at their spot. "Or, at least what we assume is your favorite, since you ate three chocolate chip waffles on Monday when they were out. That's the present that is going to take you all of breakfast to get through."

Hermione blushes when Alicia finishes off with a wink and Fred leans in to her space to nudge her. "Thank you," she says, flustered that they've been paying attention.

"I'm going first for gifts," Lee says. He reaches in to his bag and pulls out a poorly wrapped parcel that he hands to Hermione.

Hermione takes it and stares at it for a long moment. Not only did she just befriend this group five days prior, but out of all of them, her and Lee have interacted the least. And yet, here she is, holding a gift from him in her hands. She looks at him. "Thank you," she says, shocked.

Lee laughs. "Maybe wait until you open it before you thank me," he says.

"Oh," she breathes. Maybe—well, he wouldn't prank her, she knows, especially now that he gave her warning, but what else could he mean? She peels the paper open and finds three quills. She smiles softly at them. "I still thank you."

"They're Sugar Quills," Lee beams. "The best part is, Fred and George helped me charm them so you can actually use them. You work so long on your essays sometimes you forget to eat—now you can just eat your quill!"

Hermione is touched, genuinely. "I love them," she tells him honestly. "Thank you."

"Alright, alright," Katie cuts in. "Ours next."

"You already know about The Weird Sisters album coming—once we get a Hogsmeade weekend, anyways," Angelina reminds her.

Alicia nods. She hands Hermione a neatly wrapped package. "But there's also these."

Hermione takes and opens the package. Inside she finds a scarf, a pair of mittens, thick wool socks, and a hat.

"A lot of us get our House gear sent to us from our parents—or sent with us if they're sure we're going to be in one House, that is," Alicia explains. "Luckily I'm really good at knitting; my mum taught me the Muggle way."

"I'm not as good," Katie grins. "But I still managed the scarf. Took me longer than Alicia took to make everything else, sure, but I think it's better than anything she made."

"Oi!" Alicia crows.

Katie sniggers and scoots away from the girl so she can continue, "we figure you have winter gear, but nothing for Gryffindor. It's a little early, but on such short notice, it was all we could do."

"I wrapped it," Angelina throws in. "I can't knit a bloody thing, but at least I can make it look good as a present."

Hermione tosses her head back to laugh. "I  _love_  them. And I loved the wrapping, Ange. Thank you guys."

She's petting the scarf, admiring its softness, when a loud thud causes her to look up. There's another gift sitting in front of her. She looks at Fred, and then past him to George. They're smiling at her. "Our turn," they say in sync.

She takes her time to neatly fold the scarf back up, and piles the other accessories on top. She curls them back up in the paper they came in, and tucks them away in her bag.

She returns to the gift in front of her and eyes it warily. It… honestly, it looks like a book, but she's not quite sure how the twins could have gotten a book as a gift when there've been no Hogsmeade trips yet. She opens it slower than her other two gifts, wary of anything that could jump out at her.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, we aren't trying to prank you on your birthday!" George huffs.

"But—it looks like a  _book_ ," Hermione frowns.

Alicia snorts. "She's got you there, boys. Any thing that puts you in contact with a book has got to be some sort of prank."

Fred rolls his eyes. "We became friends in the  _library_ ," he argues.

She can't argue that. She tears in to the paper faster, now, until it falls apart to reveal a battered copy of  _An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe_ , a book George had mentioned days before and Hermione had said she'd love to read. Tears spring to her eyes against her best attempts to keep them down, and she runs her fingers over the cover while trying to blink them back.

After a few moments, she feels her eyes are clear enough to look up at the twins. Fred is staring at her nervously, and George looks excited. She throws her arms around Fred and pulls him in to a tight hug. " _Thank you_ ," she says passionately. She looks to George, then the rest of the table. "I can't reach any of you right now, but if I could, I'd be hugging all of you."

Fred chuckles and it vibrates deep in his chest. "Now, now," he teases as he runs a hand up and down her back, and with her ear pressed to his chest, she hears the words from where they start. "No need for the lies to cover up that I'm your favorite. We all already know that."

Hermione puffs out a breath and moves to pull away. Fred holds her tight to his chest. "Fred—"

"See?" he asks their friends. "She can't get enough." Hermione digs two fingers in to his side and he yelps, releasing her quick. She smirks up at him triumphantly. "Merlin, 'Mine, you play dirty."

"Not until someone else doesn't play fair, I don't."

Alicia looks immensely pleased. "We're never letting you go, Hermione."

She blushes and doesn't say anything in return. She studies the cover of the book, and flips through the first few pages.

"It's second hand," Fred murmurs while everyone else starts eating again. "We couldn't afford a new copy, but—"

"I love it," Hermione stops him. "It's perfect."

"I'm glad."

More people begin flooding in to the Hall nearly half an hour later, by which time Hermione is on her third chocolate chip waffle. Some people give her and her friends odd looks, including Harry and Ron. She's sure it's a scene to see, however. The twins and Lee are usually three of the last people to make it to breakfast, and Hermione is surrounded by torn wrapping paper, quills and a book, and winter gear.

Once nearly three quarters of the school were settled in, owls start swooping in. McGonagall had told her parents how to address any letters they wanted to send, as they didn't have an owl and sent it through the post, but Hermione was skeptical that she'd receive it.

She's happy to be proven wrong when a tawny owl floats down until it's hovering above her and drops a thick package. She smiles at the familiar loops of her mother's calligraphy, and doesn't hesitate before ripping in to the parcel. Several books topple out of the tear, and Fred rushes to catch them before the fall from the table. She thanks him but quickly turns back to the books. All of them seem to be by the same author.

She picks up the envelope the spilled out with the books, and opens it.

_Hermione,_

_The happiest of birthdays to you! We're crushed to not be spending it with you, but we do hope your new school is treating you well. Have you made many friends? Have you learned much yet? Are you missing us yet? We went back and forth over whether you'd even remember us, what with all the wonders you described in your letter! (We hope you both remember and miss us, because we remember and miss you very much.)_

_Over the summer I discovered a new series that I hadn't seen before. It seems like it's full of magic and adventures; perhaps you can compare them to your real life magic and adventures (hopefully none quite as dangerous as those you'll find in the books)!_

_We do miss you, dear, and would love to hear from you soon. We even got treats for any more owls you send (that gray one wasn't all that happy with the biscuit we gave her), so send lots of them! We're also going out of our minds waiting to hear how it all holds up beyond your first day. We hope it's well, and we hope there are plenty of people who are able to see what a brilliant addition you are to that school. Write soon, daughter o'Mione._

_Love,_

_Mum and Dad_

She places the letter to the side with a smile, and shuffles through the books. The others watch her gather them up.

"What's a scion?" George asks curiously.

"What's an  _elfstone?_ " adds Katie.

Angelina smirks and continues, "what's a wishsong?"

Fred reaches over and grabs the top book. "Blimey, you're concerned about all of those, but what in Merlin's name is a  _sword?_ "

Hermione laughs and snatches the book back. "I guess I'll have to read and find out what in Merlin's name a sword could possibly be."

Fred leans in to her space. He tilts his head, and she realizes he's looking at the letter from her parents. "Does… does that say 'daughter o'Mione'? That… is the greatest thing that today could have given me. Merlin, I love your parents."

"Oh no."

Fred looks at her, faux concern in his eyes. "What's wrong, friend o'Mione?"

"No."

"Oh, come off it, chum o'Mione, I'm just teasing, schoolmate o'Mione!"

Hermione glares. "Eventually you're going to run out of synonyms."

"Not soon enough for you, darling o'Mione."

"You can't branch off in to pet names like that."

Fred leans in close, grinning wide. "Show me the rule that says that, 'Mione o'Mione."

Hermione huffs. She reaches in to her bag and pulls out one of her ink-filled sugar quills and then tears a spare piece of wrapping paper from her parent's parcel. Fred is watching, smiling all the while.

"' _Terms of endearment may not precede "o'Mione" in a given nickname_ ,'" Hermione recites as she writes.

"Darling doesn't  _have_  to be a term of endearment," Fred argues. "Neither does love, pet, sweetheart—"

"' _The nickname "'Mione" may not precede "o'Mione" in a given nickname_ ,'" she continues.

"No!" Lee shouts suddenly, eyes stuck on the piece of paper as she writes. Hermione looks up wide-eyed. Everyone is staring at her and Fred. "'Mione o'Mione is my favorite, c'mon Herms."

She crosses the rule out as she grimaces. "I'm only taking that rule off because I prefer it over  _Herms_. I take that rule off, there's no more Herms, deal?"

Lee whoops victoriously, thrusting his fists in the air. George cheers as well. Angelina shakes her head. "Shouldn't have given him that. Now they're going to push for more."

"I won't let them," she states. "I can out stubborn them any day."

"That a challenge, darling o'Mione?" Fred asks, quirking an eyebrow up.

Hermione ignores him and goes back to writing her rules. "' _Sweet Child may not precede "o'Mione" in a given nickname_ ,'" she adds.

"Sweet child?" Katie wonders, confused.

"Sweet Child of Mine is a Muggle song."

"Sing it for us, sweet child o'Mione," Fred prompts.

"' _Failure to comply with these rules may result in punishment ranging from non-responsiveness from Hermione to harmless but humiliating jinxes._ '"

Alicia cackles as she watches Hermione write the last rule. "I can help you with the harmless but humiliating jinxes should you ever need help."

"Wouldn't that be better left to us?" George quirks an eyebrow, and there's a smile on his face.

"Not if I'm going to be using them on you," Hermione counters. "And I have a feeling I'm  _only_  going to be using them on you. I'd like you to be surprised." She turns to Alicia. "I'll certainly take you up on that."

"Gred? Does the back of your neck feel cold?"

George grimaces. "I think that's the fear, Forge."

Hermione smiles politely, trying to hide the pride she feels. "I've got to run this all up to my room before classes, if you all don't mind. See you at lunch?"

Alicia grins, wide and mirth filled. "See you then, friend o'Mione."

*\

Time gets lost between studying and her friends all at Quidditch practice. There's Lee that she could seek out, but she thinks he's her friend more because all of his friends, rather than actually wanting to be friends with her. Maybe that's a little harsh to assume, but she doesn't want to go where she's not wanted, so she gives him space, only seeking him out when Quidditch practice goes over and they're both waiting on their friends.

They get closer in that time, but never quite as close as she is with the rest of the group, and never quite as close as she wishes they could be. She thinks it's something they need to work on, but it can be put aside for their next four and a half years at school together, that way they don't try and force it.

She grows closer still with the twins, and finds her friendship with Alicia growing faster and stronger that even her friendships with Katie and Angelina. There's something about the older girl—she feels an almost familial bond with her.

That doesn't stop her from realizing its all either fake or pity once Ron points it out—she's a nightmare. She's got no friends.

"Granger!" a familiar voice calls from behind her. She doesn't stop—doesn't even slow down. She needs to be alone, needs to get away.

"Oi! Hey!" the voice calls again, and it's closer, along with the pounding footsteps.

Before she can decide if she wants to take off running, someone grabs her upper arm and spins her around. She looks down to the ground and resists wiping her eyes. They're too tall to see her eyes if she's staring at the ground. Wiping them away will only bring their attention to it and then they'll know for sure that she's crying.

"What's wrong?" the voice asks, and she can't pick it apart, can't tell if it's Fred or George and she's so frustrated by that—

"'Mine?" another, nearly identical voice comes from further away, but it's softer, gentler. It's how Fred talks to her sometimes, with that stupid nickname he's started using, when he's tired or confused or trying to bring her comfort.

"What?" she snaps, keeping her eyes on the ground.

Fred's footsteps get closer, and George is still gripping her arm. When Fred reaches her, he grabs her chin and tilts it up, forcing her to face him. His eyes look sad. "Merlin, 'Mine, what—"

"None of your concern," she tells them.

The sadness in Fred's eyes turns to anger and George's hand tightens on her arm. "None of our concern? Bloody hell, Hermione, you're our friend, what hurts you  _is_  our concern," George says.

Hermione snorts and jerks out of both of their grips quickly. "That's brilliant, isn't it? That you're my  _friends_. That  _you_  two are friends with  _me_ , a know-it-all  _nightmare_. Sure you are, because I'm the person that you guys befriend, is that it?" She looks between them, but doesn't give them a chance to answer. "No. I'm the person you guys make fun of behind my back. I'm the person you guys  _can't stand_. So it's either pity or a…  _ruse_. And I'm not okay with either."

She spins and stalks away from them. Just to make sure they don't trail her, she turns the first corner she sees, and then the next, and then the next. She finds a girls' bathroom then and ducks inside. It's deserted for now, so she curls up in one of the stalls and lets her tears fall.

She loses track of time; only Parvati tries talking her out, but Hermione asks that she be left alone. Parvati sighs but leaves nonetheless.

Battling a troll was not on her agenda—ever. That's part of the reason that she loses any coherent thoughts when she realizes the door is locked from the outside (the other part is that the troll is  _huge_  and she is  _tiny_ ), watching as it stomps towards her as she screams and rushes to the other side of the room, swinging its club all the while. She catches a piece of porcelain that flies from a sink to her shoulder, and thinks:  _this is it. This is how I die. I'd rather be expelled._

Harry and Ron come bursting in, wands drawn and shouting. They came with the knowledge that they'd be facing the beast. She appreciates that, to say the least, even if she's too shaken to do much to help them out. They manage perfectly fine without her, thankfully.

So she lies to Professor McGonagall and takes the slash in House Points, and heads for the common room. She can see her friends (her  _friends!_  she reminds herself, feeling ashamed for how she had treated them this afternoon) eyeing her warily from a corner of the room, and she realizes the twins must have told the others what had happened earlier. She smiles at them and holds up a finger, letting them know she'll be over soon.

It's not too much longer before Ron and Harry enter through the portrait hole. It's awkward, the three of them standing there and looking everywhere but each other. She thanks them, and they thank her (though she's not sure why), and then she takes her leave to get dinner that's been set up along one wall of the common room.

When her plate is full of food, she moves over to sit next to Fred on the floor. "What happened?" he asks. He is looking at her tentatively, eyeing the poor state of her robes, and George, leaning around his brother, is looking at her expectantly.

She grimaces. "They just helped me beat a troll."

" _What?_ " Fred snaps, eyes going wide. He puts his plate on the ground and turns his body so he's facing her fully. He grabs her chin, much like he did earlier, and starts turning her head to examine her features. "You're okay, right?" he presses after a few seconds of silence.

"Yes,  _Mum_ ," she grunts, her words dripping with sarcasm.

He's seemingly satisfied with the lack of damage to her face and her answer that she was fine, but he still gives the rest of her body a once over. He pauses on her left shoulder. He reaches out. "What's this, then?"

She looks down to his hand where it's lifting up a shredded piece of fabric, the one she had cleaned on her way back to the common room—the one that she knows is hiding a bloodied and bruised shoulder. "It probably just got torn in the fight." Fred doesn't look like he believes her but the conversation moves on before he can press for more information.

"What were you doing taking on the troll?" Katie asks. Her voice sounds worried.

"I wasn't," Hermione shrugs. "I was in the bathroom and then… there was a troll. I'd probably be dead if they hadn't shown up."

"I don't believe that," Alicia scoffs. "You can do much more than those boys."

"Well. I was rather surprised by it—I froze. I didn't really do much apart from maybe keep its attention away from them? And, well. Harry had to stick his wand up its nose and I—I'm just lucky they showed up."

"What were you doing down there, anyway? Why weren't you at dinner?" Lee wonders.

Hermione glances at Fred and George out of the corner of her eyes. They're both watching her intensely. "I was running away from these two?" she tries, with a nod at the twins.

"That was  _four bloody hours ago_ ," George says.

Hermione nods. "I just… stayed there."

"Gonna tell us what it was about?" Fred asks, referring to her running away.

"Yeah," Katie says in agreement. "They said you were crying? Why didn't you get me or Alicia or even Angelina if you didn't want to talk to them?"

"Er—well. It wasn't  _them_. It was everyone, really."

Lee drops his jaw. "What did  _I_  do?"

Alicia is frowning next to him as well.

"No one did anything. Someone just… said something. It reminded me of primary—that's my old school. I took it out on Fred and George, but I wasn't going to take lightly to anyone," she explains. She turns to the twins. "I'm sorry."

"Who?" Fred asks.

She blinks. "What?"

"Who said something?"

Hermione shakes her head. "I'm not telling you that."

"Why?" George demands.

"Because it's not important."

"Hermione," Alicia says, voice hard, "it's not right that you deal with this alone. We're you're friends, we can—"

"As my friends can you just… accept that it's been handled?"

"No," Lee answers easily. "If it wasn't handled the last time you saw Fred and George, and you've been hiding since then—"

"Ron," George realizes.

Hermione rolls her eyes. "Yes, okay, Ron and I don't get along, and he said something upsetting. But he just saved my life, if you'll all please rememb—"

Fred cuts her off. "What did he say?"

Hermione shakes her head. "No. I'm not telling you."

"I reckon it must've been something about her not having friends and being a know-it-all nightmare," George concludes. "Well, Freddie, we haven't spent nearly enough time with our dear Ickle Ronnikins lately, perhaps we should pay him a visit?"

"Do  _not_ ," Hermione snaps, nearly toppling her plate over as she reaches out to clutch their robes in her fists. "I might finally have a truce with him and I don't think he even realizes I'm friends with you. I will not have you ruin it and have him hate me all over again for turning his brothers against him or something painfully stupid like that."

"She's right," Alicia says with a grimace. "As much as I'd like to hex him into next week for making her cry, I think that little greeting they just had by the door is the most civil I've ever seen them with each other."

Fred doesn't look happy about that conclusion, but he seems to accept it.

*\

She spends much of her time studying with Alicia in the common room, sometimes joined by others, sometimes just the two of them, and getting closer with Ron and Harry. Harry mostly, since her friendship with Ron seems to be entirely based on the fact that they're both Harry's friends and he no longer hates her, but she  _thinks_  he's warming up to her more and more each day.

She's sitting in the common room Friday morning with Alicia, up early to get a head start on her readings for the weekend. They're waiting for the others to wake up when a rumbling comes from the boys' dormitory steps.

" _Are you ready?_ " George shouts, rushing down the final few steps.

Hermione blinks. "Ready for what?"

"' _Ready for what?_ ' she asks," Lee gasps, hand clutching at his chest dramatically.

Fred jumps off the stairs where he had been moments before, on to George's back. "First Quidditch game of the season tomorrow!"

Alicia whoops and jumps out of the seat she'd been in next to Hermione, who shifts awkwardly in her seat. She had almost forgotten that she was the only one who didn't seem to be obsessed with Quidditch. She turns back to her books, and tries to drown them out.

"Hermione!" George whines at her lack of response, as he balances Fred's weight on his back. "Aren't you excited?"

She grimaces. "Not really."

" _What?_ " Fred shrieks. "What do you  _mean_  not really?"

She looks between the twins and Alicia, who all look equally as shocked. She hears others filtering in the room, and hears George frantically tell Angelina and Katie that Hermione isn't excited for the Quidditch match.

"I've never seen a game, and I don't really care for sports, muggle or wizard."

"But… but…"

A jolt of fear runs through her. Is this it? Is  _this_  going to be what make these people back out of their friendship? It's been odd enough that this group of people that seem so revered at this school have latched on to her despite being older and sharing very few initial interests, but now finding out that she doesn't like  _Quidditch_ —a large part of the glue that holds this group of friends together—is that too much for them?

"You'll still come to cheer us on, though?" Alicia asks, wary. Not wary about Hermione not liking Quidditch, wary about Hermione not being there to support them. Relief rushes through Hermione so quickly she can feel it in her toes.

She nods. "Of course. My best friends make up almost the entire team—get me an in with Oliver and I may as well be your mascot. I wouldn't miss it for the world."

George grins. "And by the world you mean extra studying time, don't you, 'Mine?"

"Oi!" Fred frowns, glaring at his twin. He slides off of George's back and lands on his feet with a  _thud_. "'Mine is  _mine_ , get your own nickname."

Hermione rolls her eyes. "There will be no monopolies on nicknames."

Fred turns to her. "There will be on 'Mine."

"Fredrick."

"'Mine."

"You need to learn to share."

"I know how to share!"

Alicia scoffs and falls in to the seat next to Hermione. "Sure you do," she says.

Fred pouts. "I grew up with a  _twin_ , I only own half of what I own!"

Hermione resists the urge to drop her head to the table. "That's not how that works."

"Trust me, that's how it works." George says.

"Also five siblings!" Fred hurries to add.

Hermione looks at Alicia. They shrug. "You still don't have full control over a name that anyone can call me."

"Yes I do," he says. "If you can make up the o'Mione rules, I can make up the 'Mine rules. 'Mine is mine. If not, the o'Mione rules are no more."

"Fred!"

He raises an eyebrow, challenging.

She submits (because really, she's added more rules to the o'Mione rules since their creation and she doesn't know if she could take it if Fred threw those out the window), but not before glaring. "You're an arse."

"Hermione!" George gasps, dropping his jaw, laughing giddily. Alicia barks out a laugh from beside her, and Hermione blushes. Fred grins, wide— _victorious_.

*\

"Did Harry ever tell you what the bloody hell he was doing?" Angelina demands as soon as Hermione sits down for breakfast Sunday morning. "He didn't say much after the match, but that might have been because Oliver was alternating between yelling curses at whatever he was doing and praises at him catching the Snitch."

"It wasn't Harry," Hermione says. "Professor Snape was jinxing him."

"What?" Katie gasps. "But… how do you know? Why did he stop?"

"I saw him. He was staring at Harry muttering something. I set him on fire."

" _What?_ " Fred, George, and Lee all cry out.

"Tell me you're being serious—that this isn't just a joke," Lee pleas.

"I'm serious. Just ask Ron. He doesn't like me enough yet to lie for me."

"Oh, my poor old heart can't take this," Fred says, clutching his chest.

"You're thirteen," Hermione scoffs, rolling her eyes. "There's nothing old about you."

"I'm a twin, Combined we're twenty-six years old."

"That's still not old, and that's still not how it works."

"We have twenty-six combined years of life experience how does that  _not_  work Granger?" George huffs.

"You two have gone through almost everything together. You've got the exact same experiences."

"That's debatable but we're getting off track, here," Fred says. "You set Snape on  _fire?_ "

"Not so loud!"

"Blimey, I think I'm in love," George breathes.

Lee scowls. "Who did Snape just fail because he  _felt like it?_  Me. She's mine."

"She likes me best," Fred says. "And I'm the one sitting next to her, so—"

Hermione is tugged to the side into someone's arms, but it's not Fred. She laughs as she hears Alicia threaten the boys about not pissing on her like she's something to be claimed. When Alicia releases her, the boys all look suitably threatened, but Fred still quirks an eyebrow at her and smirks.

Hermione's stomach rolls. She looks at her plate, which is still very full, and thinks she must just be very hungry. She tucks in to her breakfast and away in a book for the remainder of breakfast.

*\

"Hey, 'Mine," Fred calls as she's walking through the courtyard later that day. She's promised to help Ron and Harry with their potions essays and is on her way to them from sending her parents an owl. She slows and turns to face Fred. George is right beside him, which is no surprise. "D'you know any targeting spells? We, uh, have a self-propelling spell for something, but it lands way off and none of our books we have right now have a targeting spell."

She narrows her eyes. "What is the  _something?_ "

"Nothing  _bad_. Just… for a snowball fight?" George says.

She rolls her eyes. "We do have snowball fights as muggles as well, I'm not against them! Let me get back to you at dinner." She turns away but thinks—Fred and George read a fair amount...  _Maybe_ … "Have you two ever heard of Nicolas Flamel?"

"Who?"

"Never mind. Just someone I read about once that I can't find anymore information on, but I can't quite remember where, or what he's even done," she lies. "It's nothing. I've got to go help your brother with an essay on the known uses of Asphodel. Mind you, the essay is due  _tomorrow_ —"

George grins. "Better hurry along then."

Fred smiles. "Dinner?"

"Dinner," Hermione nods. "I'll see if I can have that targeting spell for you two."

"Thank you!" they call before walking off. She does the same, and then freezes.

"If you two  _dare_  use it on  _me_  I'm never helping you again!"

"We would never!"

*\

Christmas break passes fairly quickly. There are more presents under the tree than ever, and she's sure her neighbors must be confused about the abundance of owls on Christmas Day (one from the twins, Harry and Ron, Alicia, Angelina, Katie, and even Lee).

Returning from break is a whirlwind. Harry's been reckless going around looking for magic mirrors and she can't  _believe_  him, but in the end they do find Nicolas Flamel and discover the Sorcerer's Stone.

She's thrilled when they find it, and she's tempted to run off and tell Fred and George and Alicia about it right then, but she knows she can't—not when Professor Snape is trying to steal it, not when Professor Dumbledore has gone to such great lengths to protect it, not when it's so dangerous, not when this has more to do with Harry than her and she won't put him at risk. So she tucks the book away again and smiles at her friends and tells them about her classes, and doesn't mention a thing about immortality, or alchemy, or three-headed dogs guarding trapdoors.

*\

A hand reaches out, snagging a piece of already buttered toast from her plate. She twists in her seat and scowls. "Fred!"

The table falls silent.

"I think this is the first time I've ever seen Hermione mistake George for Fred," Lee says, staring at Hermione. "Are you tired? Unwell? Did they do something to upset you?"

Alicia frowns, her face tight as though she's thinking hard. "I think that  _is_  the first time she's ever mistaken either of them for the other."

Hermione looks at the twin next to her. "What? That—you're? This is Fred."

Fred stares at her for a long moment, and then his face breaks in to a wide grin. He looks to George and Hermione sees George looking at her with raised eyebrows as well. "How could you tell?" George wonders.

" _What?_ " Katie yells.

Hermione's eyes flick to the others at the table. They're all either staring at her or studying the twins intensely. "There are a few physical differences, but I don't go off those as much. You can cover those up or spell them away, but you can't change your mannerisms or the way you carry yourselves for the most part."

"Like what?" George asks, his voice full of curiosity.

She studies the two of them. "You  _tried_  to mix everyone up today!" she accuses. "You covered up your mole with your sweater and switched how you wore your robes, which is the most obvious to everyone else!"

"Well—"

"I'm not going to tell you," she says, shaking her head. "I'm not going to tell you how I know who is who, because I'm not going to let you try and trick me as your idea of a prank one day. You've whined that so few people can tell you apart, and then you go and play this joke on the people who put in the effort?"

"'Mione—"

"Why?"

They share a look. "Social experiment? It's not a prank," George says, "and we wouldn't ever use it against anyone. It was more so to see if there was anyone who could tell. Being a twin gets frustrating some times, and there's nothing wrong with the cues people have come to rely on—we appreciate that they've made any effort at all to differentiate us, because most professors just call us 'Mr. Weasley.' A lot of people in the school can't even tell us apart by our robes, mostly because they don't care enough to learn even though we wear them purposefully different. We just wanted to see if anyone could tell beyond the two most obvious physical differences."

Fred nods. "It wasn't to be rude."

Hermione sighs. "I won't list everything, but there are some things… Fred is louder. He usually talks first. George slouches a bit more and he smiles more than he smirks, while Fred is the opposite." She looks to the others. " _You_  four… I will fill in on their differences later."

"That doesn't seem fair," Fred pouts.

"Oh, it's more than fair," Angelina says glaring between the twins. "I can't believe you're still doing this!"

"We've done it  _twice!_ " George defends. "Once was because I was failing Astronomy and Fred sat the exam for me and we didn't want anyone mucking it up for us."

Hermione gasps. "You didn't!"

"Oh, we did. Almost had matching marks for the term after I failed his exam for him, too."

"We're never going to use Astronomy," Fred shrugs, "he just had to get a mark high enough to pass the year."

"How did I end up friends with the likes of you two?" she groans, dropping her head to her hands.

Alicia cackles. "We ask ourselves that every day. Luckily, they seem to have more redeeming qualities than condemning."

"Are we sure about that?"

Katie laughs. "To be determined, but so far, yeah."

"We're  _right here_ , you know?"

"Oh, shut up, Gred," Lee says. He pauses, looks up. "I'm so sorry; you  _are_  Gred, aren't you?"

The group breaks in to laughter, save for the twins who roll their eyes at their friends, but still break out in to grins.

*\

Alicia waves at the boys' dormitory steps from across the room and Hermione takes that as her cue. She activates the  _sonorous_ charm and steps forward. "Happy birthday!"

"Ahh!" Fred shouts, jumping away from Hermione's amplified voice. "Bloody hell, 'Mine! Are you trying to make this birthday my last? My heart isn't as strong as it used to be!"

She rolls her eyes, tapping her throat to take the spell off. She looks to the steps, nearly falling to her knees when she sees George sprawled across them. She laughs and laughs and laughs, unable to control herself. The girls join her and Angelina throws an arm around her shoulders to help keep her standing. "The only thing I regret in this is that you didn't get to see their faces."

That only makes Hermione laugh harder.

"Yeah, yeah," George says, getting to his feet. "Are we going to breakfast or what?"

"Where's Lee?" Fred asks.

"Upstairs, probably," Katie says. "We warned him what we were going to do and he told us to send one of you up for him after."

The twins look at each other, and then call up the stairs. " _Traitor!_ "

Lee pops out. "Oh, is it over? Can I come down now? Morning, everyone!"

*\

"What d'you think happened there?" Angelina nods at the hourglass, indicating the absence of the 150 points Gryffindor had lost last night (while Harry and Harmione secretly were trying to actually save a dragon's life and groundskeeper's job, thank you very much). Hermione groans and buries her face in her hands. "'Mione?"

"Got to be a mistake, doesn't it?" Katie shrugs.

Hermione groans again.

"Hermione?" Alicia murmurs, shaking her shoulder.

She lifts her head and starts packing her bag. "I'm so sorry." She pushes herself up from the table and moves to leave, but Alicia catches her wrist.

"Sorry for what?"

"For  _that_ ," she snaps, flicking her eyes to the hourglass. She yanks her wrist from Alicia's hand. "I'm  _so_  sorry, alright?" her eyes start to brim with tears because she  _is_  sorry and she made a  _terrible_  mistake and she really does need to leave before—

"Morning!" an overly familiar voice chimes.

Oh no.

"I need to go," Hermione mutters, rushing from the Hall.

She hears the twins and Lee questioning the girls. She can't stick around to hear the answers.

*\

"What did Harry do?"

Hermione looks up. She'd retreated to the library to get some form of peace during breakfast. She's not sure how long it's been, but she shouldn't be surprised that Fred and George have found her. She  _isn't_  surprised really. She's just a bit confused, especially with that opening line. Fred is standing there, hands pressed against the table as he leans his full weight on to them. The heels of his hands are turning a pale white. His fingers are still. It's a stark contrast to their first encounter in the library, at this same table so many months ago. George stands behind him at his full height, arms crossed over his chest.

Hermione stares. "What?"

"It's going around that Harry, Neville, and  _you_  are the reason we lost the points. There's no way you'd do anything to lose points like that, so what did Harry—"

"Don't be so sure," she snaps.

Fred scoffs. "You whined when you lost  _five_  points, you think I'll believe you were  _willingly_  a part of—"

"Considering I'm never an  _unwilling_  participant because I can fight my own battles,  _yes_. I'm not a child, nor am I a push over, nor am I an idiot. Don't blame my friends for my mistakes."

George narrows his eyes. "You still haven't said what you've done. I'm willing to wager it wasn't your mistake to make."

"I haven't said because it's not your concern."

"No—" Fred shakes his head. He moves so he's stood up straight and comes around the table to sit next to her book. "No. See, the last time you said that, you locked yourself in a bathroom for hours and ended up fighting a troll. I'm not about to have you go off an fight a dragon now."

Hermione has to hide her face so they can't see the quirk of her lips. "Then it's too bad that you can't force me to tell you anything, because I'm not saying a word."

"'Mione," George says warningly.

"No."

" _'Mine_ ," Fred says harshly. "Talk to us. We're you're friends."

"So is Harry, believe it or not. There was a misunderstanding but we couldn't tell McGonagall the truth, because a  _lot_  more people would have been in trouble, okay? That's all I'm going to tell you."

"Hermione—"

" _Would you stop!_ " she hisses. "I'm  _not_  going to tell you, not now at the very least, and I'd actually like to get some studying done. So if  _you're_  not going to leave,  _I_  am."

George looks at Fred. "C'mon, Freddie."

Fred glares, nostrils flaring.

"Fred," George whispers, giving Hermione a sad look.

Fred waits another moment, and then shoves himself away from the table at last.

They don't find her for the rest of the term, and she doesn't find them.

*\

"He's worried about you, you know?" Alicia sighs. "George tries to keep him in line but I think he feels responsible for you."

"Well, he's not," Hermione says.

"No," Alicia says. "He's not. But he cares. We all do. You're our friend, Hermione. You're the twins' closest friend beyond Lee. And your other best friend is The Boy Who Lived, who doesn't have the best track record and has already gotten you in to some pretty sticky situations that could have had some serious repercussions. You've taken the fall for him more than you should already."

Hermione rolls her eyes. "Not you too. I got  _myself_  in to those situations. I'd do it again. I'd hope for different results, but I don't regret what I've prevented."

"I'm not saying anything against that, 'Mione. I'm just saying that we care, so we're going to get scared, and worried, and upset, and even angry," she explains. "It doesn't mean we're against you or Harry—or that we don't think Harry is a good friend. It just means you're our priority."

*\

"You  _stupid_  girl," a voice hisses, pulling her backwards into a hug. She recognizes both the voice and the hold as Alicia.

Hermione laughs. She pries the arms from around her neck and turns to face her friend. "I'm sorry. I couldn't tell you, but I couldn't  _not_  help Harry."

"You can  _always_  tell me, Hermione," she says seriously. "I know there are times that I won't like it or that I'll think it's dangerous and will want to go to a professor, but I trust you. I want you to know that you can always trust me, okay?"

Hermione smiles. "Thank you."

Angelina, Katie, and Lee are standing behind Alicia, and Hermione turns to them. Angelina and Katie both move in to hug her at the same time. "We were so worried when we woke up to the news this morning. Hearing that Harry and Ron were in the infirmary and you weren't in your dorm and—"

"I'm fine."

"Fred and George have words for you," Lee smirks from the back of the group. "They're with Ron right now, but they're not happy."

Hermione sighs. "I wasn't expecting them to be. Thanks for the warning, anyways."

"Best not to avoid them too long," he advises.

"I was headed back to Harry and Ron after I got breakfast, so I'm sure I'll run in to them."

"No need," a new voice enters. Hermione whips her head around to find the twins. Both of them are stony faced, but she's just— _oh_ , she's just so relieved to be in their presence again.

She leaps up and runs, colliding with both of them. They each wrap an arm around her, and she struggles to get an arm around each of them—struggles to hold them as close as she longs to. "I'm sorry I couldn't tell you what was going on. It's not my business to tell."

"The moment he dragged you in to it it became your business to tell," George says.

"He didn't drag—"

Fred squeezes her to his body. "Yeah, yeah. You can still tell us. Where you're involved, we'll help you out. Trust us."

"And Ron."

"Sometimes Ron," he says, teasingly. "Always you."

Hermione rolls her eyes and pulls away. She looks up to both of them. They're staring down at her with… relief? "You're one of my best mates, 'Mione," George says. "But you're so bloody  _stupid_. Don't you dare put yourself or my brother at risk like that again."

"At least not without telling us," Fred adds. "So then we can help."

"No!" Alicia calls. "No stupidity allowed at all! I like my friends  _alive!_ "

"I  _am_  alive!" Hermione argues.

Each of them laughs—laughs filled will joy and relief and mirth and contentment. They'll be going home in three days and separated for weeks on end, but they are where they are meant to be for now, and are armed with the knowledge that they'll be returning come September to this family that they belong to.


	2. she looks into her mirror (wishing someone could hear her)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "No, no—we definitely need to talk about this. Can you stand up? Can I see your tail?"  
> "Fred!"  
> "Wh—c'mon 'Mine! You—you've got a tail. An actual tail! What would you say if I was in the hospital wing with fur and a tail?"  
> "'What did you do now?'"  
> "Hey!"  
> "Would you keep it down in there?" Madam Pomfrey hisses. "Now! Or the both of you will lose all privileges to see her while she's in here!"  
> George's eyes widen. "But—"  
> Fred smacks him. "Shut it! D'you want to get us kicked out?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHH, thank you all SO much for the wonderful reception to this fic. I am so glad you enjoyed the first chapter, and I hope I can live up to any expectations you've got. 
> 
> This chapter was by far the hardest for me to write. I don’t know why but I did not like it, and I apologize if it’s completely awful. I sincerely hope it is not, but it was SO tough, so hopefully it goes over well.

_**book ii.** _

_Fred and George,_

_I do hope this finds you. This is Poppy—she's a rental owl from the owl office near me. She's slow, but cheap. I'm truly hoping cheap doesn't mean she can't still find her way around. I have her for the summer. Harry and Angelina have their own owls, and Katie said her mum has one she uses, so I'll be sending Poppy between the Burrow and Alicia mainly. I don't think Lee is too interested in hearing from me. I might send him a letter just to let him know I haven't forgotten him, do you think he would appreciate that? I don't know him well enough; I would hate to bug him!_

_The first week of summer has been terribly boring. I'm sure you've guessed I've never been popular, so all the friends I do have are all in the wizarding world. I've been hearing a lot of horror stories about root canals. Please, for the love of Merlin, brush your teeth. I don't know what Madam Pomfrey or St. Mungos can do for an infected tooth, but in the Muggle world, it's not so much fun as a wave of a wand._

_My parents got me some advanced spell books. There are spells in here I will not be able to do for years (it feels like I won't ever be able to do them), but I'm excited to try some when we get back to school._

_I'm going to take the first half of the summer as a break before I start reading next term's materials, so I'm going to ask my parents to bring me back to London to pick up a few more books for extra reading over the weekend. Maybe some potions or healing?_

_How have you two been? I miss you!_

_Love from_

_Hermione_

*\

_'Mine,_

_Hopefully since you sent that letter you've gotten some more books and summer is treating you well. George and I have started experimenting on our own line of prank items. If you're wondering how that's going, currently, I only have one eyebrow. We were going for a firework, but after we realized how large an explosion our mess up had created, we've decided to hold off on that for a while until we're not at risk of blowing up our entire house._

_Lee never has much to say in his letters even to us, but we can write him saying you've said hello so dear ol' Poppy here doesn't have to make another trip. Errol, our family's owl, is even slower and older than Pops, so it'll be good for him to get out and stretch his wings._

_What is a root canal? How does a root relate to a canal and how do either thing relate to an infected tooth? Do I want to know? If you're calling them horror stories I don't know if I want to know. (George wants to know.)_

_I don't think there's a spell in existence that you couldn't do eventually if you didn't want to. You got top marks in your year and there are some bloody brilliant students in your year with you. None that necessarily share your House (though that Sophie doesn't seem completely helpless), but some of the other Houses have some brains in them. Normally I'd be bitter about that, but I'm not since Gryffindor has you and that's the real victory._

_If only George and I had our Apparition license, we could have met you at Diagon Alley. Unfortunately, when we showed up to take it, they threw us out. We'll see you soon._

_Cheers,_

_Fred_

*\

_Fred,_

_Oh wow, can't believe I missed your birthdays! Three of them at that! You're seventeen and already off to take your Apparition exam. How time flies. Please forgive me for the lack of gifts; I hope you'll remember the ones I'd just given you in April._

_I have gotten some much more interesting books! There's one on Magical Theory I think you'd really find quite interesting and it might help with your inventions. I'll bring it with me this term to lend it to you. Maybe your eyebrow will be back by then. We can hope, at least._

_I don't think I want to tell you what a root canal is. (Sorry, George. Maybe another time.) You seem so excited about dentistry and I don't want to ruin that for you. Or make you scared of my parents. Just be glad you're not a Muggle. With you're eating habits, you probably would have needed one eventually._

_You know what's funny? I don't think there's a spell in existence that you and George couldn't do either. I think you two are more towards the middle or lower portion of your class. What does my class standing have anything to do with it? Some of these are_ _really_ _advanced magic. They seem so far off. I guess I can see you two doing them because you continuously impress me (don't let that do to your head), but I can't see myself doing anything more than Hogwarts: Year 2._

 _It's been over a month and a half and I've still heard nothing from Harry. Do you know if he is upset with me? Has Ron not heard from him either? I've asked Ron, but—oh, I'm getting_ _so_ _worried._

_I don't care if he's angry with me and not writing, if that's the case, just let me know so I know he's safe._

_Due to your nickname for me, I feel an appropriate sign-off might be:_

_Yours,_

_Hermione_

*\

_Hermione,_

_Ron and the twins got me from my aunt and uncle's house. I'm staying at the Burrow for the rest of break._

_My uncle locked me and Hedwig up for the summer, so we couldn't write, or get letters._

_When are you going to be in Diagon Alley for school supplies?_

_Harry_

*\

_Harry,_

_I'm so glad to hear from you! You'll have to tell me all about it when we meet._

_My parents are both off of work the 19_ _th_ _and we'll be heading to London then. Feel free to join us._

_Love from,_

_Hermione_

*\

_'Mine,_

_We're still trying to get through all the sweets you gave us for our birthday, and the spell theory book is actually why we started working on our fireworks, so we won't forget them any time soon. You'll owe us at some point._

_George requests you explain the root canal to him, I don't want to be there when you do. Too late, I'm scared of your parents. Please don't tell them. They might give me a root canal if they know._

_You underestimate yourself and I don't appreciate it. You're the most brilliant person I know which is bloody terrifying considering your age. You'll only get better. That compliment is totally going to our heads, by the way. We continuously impress you and we're never going to let you forget it. (Does that mean we have to continue continuously impressing you? Seems like a lot of pressure.)_

_We've not heard from Harry either. We're probably going to do something stupid, but we're doing it in the name of friendship and family. If you never hear from us again, Mum probably murdered us._

_Shall we succeed, we'll make sure he sends Hedwig and she will probably find you before Poppy does._

_Wish us luck._

_Also yours (because it seems unfair if I'm not yours as well),_

_Fred_

*\

Poppy is too slow to get a letter back and forth between herself and the twins before they were due to meet up, and Alicia and Hermione have started relaying their letters through Angelina and Katie since Clement (Angelina's owl) and Amber (Katie's mum's owl) are much faster, so Hermione dismisses the owl with a treat and a sack full of the payment due. She scowls at the last letter she'd gotten; loathe to think of what they might have done to rescue Harry from his family's home.

She debates heading to the Owl Office to rent a faster owl so she can get her answers sooner (she's impatient and two weeks is a long time), but she knows some where in the back of her mind that's irrational.

She can handle this.

*\

Ten days later, Hedwig is at her window and she flies to open it.

*\

_Hermione,_

_Fred and George and want to know if Poppy is okay._

_Ron and I don't know what this is about, but they seemed serious. If it is a prank, please remember we are innocent._

_Harry_

*\

Hermione grumbles to herself. Maybe she should have sent Poppy back, or another owl. She could have afforded it, she thinks. She wanted answers; she just also wanted to show restraint. Was this now something she could hold over their heads? She is going to, either way.

She pulls out a piece of parchment, a quill, hands Hedwig a treat, and sets out to reply.

*\

_Harry,_

_Tell them Poppy is fine, she's back home. It didn't seem worth the time or money to send her back to them when I'll be seeing them soon to hear whether or not their mum murdered them or not for rescuing you. I'm assuming not if they're asking about Poppy._

_Please tell them I'll speak to them in London, and that Poppy is home, resting for once._

_Love from_

_Hermione_

*\

The days pass quick after that. Mainly because she feels like she's counting down by the hour.

Before she can fully comprehend, she's making her way down Diagon Alley towards Gringotts. They've just made it to the top of the steps when she sees Hagrid. She smiles, and then her eyes fall to the small boy next to him. She yells a warning to her parents before running down to meet her friend, greeting him. Shortly after, the Weasley's (sans Molly and Ginny) ran down the street to meet them as well. Mr. Weasley looks supremely relieved, and George tosses a wink at Hermione, which she doesn't quite understand, but laughs at nonetheless.

After another minute or so, everyone is caught up with everyone, and Mr. Weasley snatches her dad away to climb the steps to Gringotts. Fred bounces up next to Hermione and her mum. "Mrs. Granger!" he grins. "Big fan, I'm Fred Weasley, a friend of Hermione's."

"Oh?" her mum smiles. "What exactly are you a fan of?"

"Your nick names," George cuts in from the other side. "Of the o'Mione variety in particular. I might also be a fan of your dentistry work, that's yet to be determined, 'Mione has been holding out on me. Hello. George Weasley here."

"Oh. You're the twins."

Fred and George look at each other and widen their eyes. "Blimey! Why did no one ever tell us?"

Hermione rolls her eyes. "Yes, Mum, they're the twins. If you remember, I might have mentioned once or twice they can be a bit much."

"Oi!" George calls. "I'm hurt!"

"I demand we screen all outgoing letters written by you from here on out. We've got to keep these lies from spreading," Fred says.

"A lot much," her mum says, not trying to keep them from hearing at all. Both of them yell in mock outrage.

"Oh, boys! Keep it down!" Mrs. Weasley scolds Fred and George, pulling Ginny along (who is sprinting to keep up with her mother's large steps), and now only Ron and Harry are left hurrying to catch up. "I'm so sorry; these two aren't so poorly behaved normally. You don't bug this poor girl like this at school, do you?"

"Oh, Molly," her mum laughs, "it's fine, I was giving them a hard time. These two helped my daughter very much last school year. I'm very glad she met them and has friends like them. You have nothing to apologize for."

Mrs. Weasley frowns, confusion evident on her face. "Oh. I'm glad to hear that."

"And Ron, as well. He may have come along later but him and Harry being in her classes with her was a big relief. She's always been so far ahead of everyone her age, I was worried she'd never make any friends."

"Gee, thanks mum."

"That wasn't a secret," she teases lightly, because it wasn't, and the twins know it, and well, anyone who  _knows_  Hermione probably knows it. It was something that they worked on with her old primary schools with no luck, and that she'd cried many tears over, until it hadn't been worth her tears anymore. Hogwarts has been a complete blessing. Her friends have been a complete blessing.

Though her mum had been teasing, the twins still look to her to see that she's okay while Molly yells back to Ron and Harry to hurry up, and her mum doesn't miss it. She nods at them, and they rush into the bank behind their dad.

Ron and Harry come running up the steps and smile at Hermione and her mum. They introduce themselves to her parents as they all enter the bank. Once they part so the Weasleys' and Harry can go to their vaults, her mum wraps an arm around her. "You've found some good people, daughter o'Mione."

Her dad frowns down at her. "Hermione, what technology  _do_  wizards have?"

*\

Summer break goes by quickly after that. She finishes her textbooks two days before she's due in London, and can't tamp down her growing excitement. Each and every one of Gilderoy Lockhart's books is filled with both adventure  _and_  knowledge and he's going to be  _teaching_  them! She can't wait to discuss  _Voyaging with Vampires_  with Alicia—it had been the most intriguing read by far (though  _Wanderings with Werewolves_  had probably had the best information). She knows Alicia will have just as much to say about the books as she does.

The day before she's due to leave she finishes packing everything away and locks her trunk up. Her books had ended up taking over more room than her clothes despite leaving some of them at home, but she was going to be wearing robes over her clothes the majority of the days. Her dad laughs at her when he sees her trunk, but she shrugs it off because she knows he'd be doing the same, especially when he asks "well, don't you have to wear those robes during the school days? No one is going to know."

And then she's standing, hugging her dad tight while other students rush around her. He squeezes her tight and presses a kiss to the top of her head and whispers that he loves her, and then she turns to her mum, who does the same.

"I'll write soon," she says. "I don't know  _when_ —"

"'Mione!"

She whirls around just in time to see Katie flying at her. Hermione grins and catches her in a hug. "Katie!"

"I've missed you!" Katie says. She looks to Hermione's parents. "I'm so sorry to have interrupted, Mr. and Mrs. Granger—"

"Not at all, dear," her mum smiles.

Katie smiles. "I'm Katie Bell, Hermione's friend."

Her dad smiles. "It's nice to meet you. Hermione has told us about you."

Katie beams. She looks at Hermione. "Alicia and Lee are on the train already, Angelina is saying good-bye to her mum right over there, and we haven't seen  _any_  of the Weasley's yet. Have you heard from them at all?"

Hermione frowns. "I haven't." A quick glance at the clock shows only seven minutes remain until eleven, and then they'd be unable to make it through to Platform 9 ¾. She turns to her parents, who look just as unsure as she does. "Perhaps they're just—running late?"

As if on cue, Percy appears through the barrier as soon as she finishes her words. Both her and Katie let out a relieved sigh. She bids her parents good-bye once more and they collect Angelina. "We can wait for them on the train," Katie says. "You two still have to get your trunks loaded up."

Hermione nods, dragging her case behind her. "I was going to sit with Harry and Ron—"

Angelina frowns. "What? 'Mione!"

"Those two don't write! I've talked to all of you all summer! I know Harry was locked away for most of it, but—"

"Yeah, yeah," Katie waves her off as she steps on the train. "We really need to go then to see if we can find you a compartment."

"Neville probably has one already with Seamus and Dean," she says. "Harry, Ron, and I can join them."

"Alright," Katie nods. "This is us," she says, pulling open a compartment door to reveal Lee and Alicia.

Alicia jumps up and runs at Hermione, pulling her in to a hug. "It's so good to see you again!"

"You too! I've missed you," Hermione laughs.

"Come in—sit—it looks like the twins have just arrived, so they'll be here soon."

"I'm actually going to be sitting with Ron and Harry," she says, apology thick in her voice. Alicia pouts. "I'll be with you at the feast!"

"Oh, fine."

"Uh, guys?" Lee's voice sounds for the first time. "Any idea what's going on?"

Hermione looks out the compartment window and sees Fred, George, and Mr. Weasley standing next to the barrier examining it cautiously. Mr. Weasley pokes it with his wand, but nothing happens. He turns to the twins and waves a hand to the train. The twins say something, but he shakes his head, waving them towards the train once more. They sigh and gather up their trunks, making their way to the train. Mr. Weasley continues to poke around the barrier, other witches and wizards coming up to offer him help.

"Hey, what's going on out there?" Angelina asks. Hermione looks behind her to see Fred and George standing there.

George loads his case up. "Harry and Ron never made it through behind us, and dad couldn't go back out to find them. The barrier is just… stuck."

Hermione gasps. " _What?_ "

"Everyone out there is working on it," Fred tells her quickly. "The train is still leaving, but they'll probably just floo Harry and Ron to Hogwarts instead."

"They've got it!" Katie shouts from the window. Hermione rushes to see, but just then the train pulls off.

*\

Hermione stares out the window, passing miles and miles of rolling fields and hills. "Oh, I  _do_  hope they're okay," she frets. "Do you think Professor Dumbledore already knows? I can't imagine how long it will take for them to get back to the Burrow, write a letter, and for Hedwig to get to Hogwarts. They're going to miss everything!"

"They'll be fine, Hermione," Angelina soothes.

"Yeah," George agrees, "once word gets around that  _the_  Harry Potter missed the train, Dumbledore will pop out and right back in for them."

"What if something's happened, though?"

Fred leans in to Hermione's space and knocks her arm with his elbow. "Then they have you to avenge them. They'll be fine, 'Mine."

She looks out the window, frowning. "I hope so."

*\

Hermione looks around the Hall. It's only been two months since she'd last been here, but it feels like seeing it for the first time all over again.

Fred slides in to the seat next to her. He sets a small, aluminum replica of the Sorting Hat on the table in front of them. "Rules: one guess per person, per student. If you sort someone in to Slytherin and they're sorted into Gryffindor, you lose a point—"

" _What?_ " Hermione huffs. "No!"

"Why not? It's like you're betraying our house by assumption."

"I think it was a joke—I  _hope_  it was a joke because I'd probably have left the school already had I been sorted there—but the Sorting Hat briefly mentioned placing me in Slytherin. Anything is possible."

"Fine," Fred grumbles. "George and I  _can_  guess separately."

"But it only counts for half a point if one of you are right."

George's eyes widen. "What? No!"

"Yes! Even if you  _say_  you're two different people, you'd share the Sorting Hat trophy if  _one_  of you won, but not the other, and you'll use your split answers to try and get more points," Hermione says. "Then— _if_  you happen to win— _both_  of you will hold it over my head until I win it back next year."

"I agree with Hermione on this one," Angelina says from her place across the table. She has her quill poised above a piece of parchment. Three columns are drawn, labeled F, G, and H at the top. "As the officiator, I make the final decisions. I rule with 'Mione."

"Rubbish!" Fred cries, narrowing his eyes at Angelina. "This is a set up!"

"Scared, Weasleys?" Hermione taunts.

They look at each other, then at her. "No. We'll beat you even  _with_  those half points."

Just shy of an hour later and the last student is sorted—they don't beat her.

She wins, but only  _just_.

"This is because of the half-points," George argues once Dumbledore has welcomed the new students and the feast has begun. "Why am I to be responsible for my brother's ridiculous guesses?"

"Hermione won by two points; you had  _one_  correct guess that differentiated from Fred's, so there's no possible way you could have beaten her even if that half point had counted as a full point," Angelina says.

Fred glares. "We're coming for that trophy next year, Granger."

"I'd like to see you try," she smirks, snatching the trophy from where it sat in front of all of them.

"We almost had you beat this year!" George argues.

Across the table, Ginny rolls her eyes. "From what I heard, you almost had her beat last year as well. Perhaps she's just  _better_."

" _Ginerva!_ " Fred scolds, scowling at his little sister. "Blasphemy!"

Ginny grins and takes a dinner roll from the basket in front of her. "I just feel it's the obvious answer in this situation…"

Hermione looks at the youngest Weasley and then at Alicia, Angelina, and Katie. "We're keeping her, too, right?"

The answering grins from the other girls are an overwhelming  _yes_. Hermione looks at Fred and grins. She's home.

*\

Rumors begin flying around during dinner and into the evening, and Hermione is losing her mind not knowing. Of course it  _sounds_  ridiculous, but with the knowledge that yes, the Weasleys  _do_  have a flying car they apparently drove to the station today and no, her friends  _don't_  always think things through… well. She wouldn't put this past them.

"Oh… I'm going to see if I can find anyone," Hermione says.

"'Mine, I'm sure they'll be here soon," Fred says.

"But what if they're not? What if they've really been  _expelled?_ "

Alicia grabs her hand, "there's nothing you'd be able to do about that. I really don't think Dumbledore would expel either of them. He's very understanding, and they're young. They're bound to make mistakes. We all have at some point—he knows that."

Hermione squeezes her friend's hand in thanks. She sighs, and looks at the portrait hole again. "I… I'm going to go look for them. I think actively doing something will help settle me, maybe I can find Professor McGonagall or Dumbledore."

"I'll come with you," Alicia offers.

"There's really no need—"

"No," she agrees, "there's not. But it'd at least get me away from these three for a while." She cocks her head at Fred, George, and Lee and smiles with Hermione at their cries of outrage.

"Maybe we should come, too," Angelina says, nudging Katie. Their eyes are teasing, but Hermione knows they would if she asked.

"Oh, no," Hermione says. "You've got to stay here— _someone_  has got to keep them in line. We want to make it at least one night before they start their antics."

Katie laughs. "You have a point, 'Mione."

"Look at that, she already knows the drill," Angelina teases the three boys who are exaggeratedly pouting in their seats.

"Keep watch over them," Alicia warns, and then leads Hermione towards the portrait hole. They exit the common room and Alicia looks to her. "Where to first?"

Hermione frowns. "D'you think McGongall would be able to help?"

"I think unless you want to go straight to Dumbledore she's our best bet," Alicia says.

Twenty minutes later after a fruitless search (but productive walk, as they'd covered both Gadding with Ghouls  _and_  Break with a Banshee), Hermione and Alicia wandered back to the Gryffindor tower. Hermione is worried even further now, and Alicia tries to talk her down from panicking. It's not until the portrait hole comes in to view that she relaxes in the slightest, however.

" _There_  you are!" Hermione yells, running towards the boys. Alicia follows at a much slower pace. "Where have you  _been?_  The most  _ridiculous_  rumors… someone said you'd been expelled for crashing that flying car—"

"Well, we haven't been expelled," Harry says.

Hermione groans, just as Alicia comes up beside her. "So you're telling me you  _did_  fly here?"

"Skip the lecture and tell us the new password," Ron grumbles.

Hermione only has a moment to be annoyed before Alicia steps forward and says "wattlebird" to the Fat Lady. The portrait swings open and Hermione follows in behind her friends who are met with applause.

Hermione huffs, hearing Lee praise them. "What an entrance! Flying a car right into the Whomping Willow, people'll be talking about that one for  _years!_  About time someone gave that tree a taste of what it's been serving."

People clapped them on the shoulders and backs and congratulated them. From next to her, Alicia says, "oh no. 'Mione, plug your ears."

Hermione looks at her friend and frowns, confused. "Wh—"

"Why couldn't we've come in the car, eh?" the twins voices ask in unison.

Hermione's head whips back around to them. Oh no. No, no, no—they could not get this in their heads. She isn't around enough to make sure they never get access to a flying car. She doesn't know if they have another one sitting at home, of if they know of anywhere to find one.

Harry and Ron excuse themselves shortly after, and Hermione whirls on the twins. "Do not ever think of doing  _anything_  as  _pathetically_  dimwitted as that  _ever_  in you lives! I already have to deal with those two imbeciles. Do  _not_  add to my stress!"

Fred frowns. "We're supposed to be the imbeciles, yell at them."

"Fredrick Gid—"

"Alright, alright!" George yells, holding his hands up in surrender, in place of his twin. "Nothing  _that_  dimwitted, alright?"

Hermione huffs, and spins on her heel to march out of the room.

"Why aren't you scared of me like that?" she hears Angelina ask.

"It's a good thing she's not a red head," Lee says. "She'd just look like her head was on fire all the time."

"Too bad she's not a Weasley," George's voice follow's her.

"There's still time for that, isn't there though?" Alicia asks, a smirk loud in her tone.

Hermione climbs the stairs to her dorm and refuses to look back at them—won't let them see the blush that's risen on her cheeks from the implication hidden in her friend's words.

*\

"'Mione!" Angelina smiles as Hermione joins the group for lunch the next day. "Where are Ron and Harry today?"

"I could have sworn they were right behind me," Hermione huffs, sitting down next to Lee, spilling her buttons on to the table. "How unlikely is it that they stayed after to ask McGonagall for help?"

"Extremely," Lee snorts.

"I don't think there's even room to ask that question," admits George.

Fred shakes his head. "That's like asking how unlikely it is that George and I finished a History of Magic essay."

"Impossible."

"A zero-percent chance."

"Unheard of."

"Well," Hermione says, "I can hope your younger brother cares more about classes than you two."

"Oh, he does," Lee says. "If those two are left on their own they wouldn't even remember to go to class—that's how little they care about it."

"Alas," Fred says dramatically, "Angelina and Alicia are always there to remind us of our impending doom."

"Oh, quit being dramatic," Hermione scolds.

"I don't even understand it," Alicia says with a shake of her head. "You two  _should_  be at the top of the class—I even thought you'd love that. Use it as a bragging point, and all."

"No, no way. Doing well in classes means expectations and we are not ready for that level of commitment to success in classes," Fred says.

"We spend our time doing much more productive things, anyway," George says.

"Oh, yes," Hermione nods, "who needs schooling when you have pranks?"

Fred grins. "You  _do_  understand us, 'Mine."

"I really don't."

"Don't what?" Ron's voice jumps in the conversation as he settles in next to her. Harry sits beside him, and they load up their plates.

Katie turns to them. "Don't understand why you ditched Hermione."

Ron grimaces and holds up his crooked, taped up wand. "This bloody old wand! Can't do a thing anymore! Hermione was gone by the time we were packed up."

"How did it fare in transfiguration today?" Hermione wonders. She gestures to her pile of buttons on the table. "Here are the ones I managed. You can still see a bit of the beetle's marking's on this—"

"What've we got this afternoon?" Harry interrupts.

She's flustered at being cut off midsentence, but she doesn't have to think on this one. "Defense Against the Dart Arts."

Ron glances at the schedule lain out on top of her books. " _Why_  have you outlined all Lockhart's lessons in little hearts?"

Hermione lets out an undignified yelp and snatches the schedule back. Across from her, the twins have a dangerous glint to their eyes and she has to resist burying her face in her hands.

"Why wouldn't she?" Katie sighs.

"Have you  _seen_ him?" Angelina says.

"He's better than anyone at this school, at least," Alicia says.

"Or most of the wizarding world, probably," Katie agrees.

When Hermione looks up again, the twins are no longer looking at her, the glint is gone from their eyes, and they're grimacing. She smiles at Katie, Angelina, and Alicia, and they finish up their lunch quickly after that.

*\

Saturday mornings are fairly cut and dry for Hermione: she wakes up, gets dressed (leaving her class robes tucked tightly into her drawers), heads to the Great Hall, sits with Alicia, Katie, Angelina, the twins, and Lee, studies or chats with Harry and Ron until lunch, where she'll then eat with them and whoever else decides to join them.

She's awake and dressed and leaving her dorm on her way to the Great Hall when she hits a bump in her Saturday morning as Ron greets her with an awkward smile in the common room. She waves at him, and he stands up from the chair to walk with her out the portrait hole.

"Quidditch team woke up for early practice, I guess," he says as an explanation.

"How early?"

Ron shrugs. "Harry was gone when I got up, he left a note. Lee said Oliver came knocking for the twins just before dawn."

Hermione grimaces. She knows for a fact that each and every one of her friends on the Quidditch team are not morning people. She makes a wager in her mind then on who would be worse: Alicia or one of the twins (likely Fred, as George usually complains about having to wake him up).

She and Ron make it to the Great Hall in a companionable silence. They start down the table for their normal seats, but Hermione hesitates when they're nearly half way there. She sees Lee sitting on his own, picking at a waffle as he reads a book. She calls to Ron, who stops in his tracks and looks at her. Nodding to Lee, Hermione wordlessly tells her friend she's going to be sitting there. Ron frowns, but joins her as she walks over.

She sits across from Lee and takes a muffin from the plate in front of her. "If I knew separating you from the pack was all it took to make you study I would have done that last year," Hermione teases Lee, who startles.

His eyes are wide when he looks up, but his face settles in to an easy grin when he notices her. He lifts up the book and shows her the cover.  _990 Secrets of Wizards Past: The Origins of Hexes_. "I know it's not quite up to your leisure reading standards, but it's just a bit of light reading," he teases back. "It takes a lot more than loneliness and boredom to get me to  _actually_  study."

Hermione rolls her eyes. " _One day_ ," she threatens, "I will get you to study."

"I'll be waiting for that day to arrive," he says.

Ron is watching them, eye brows furrowed together in confusion. Hermione can understand that a bit, at least. Of all her friends, she's least close with Lee, and doesn't interact much with him outside of their group. It's not surprising that Ron wouldn't connect them as friends.

"Ron said Oliver woke them up at dawn. Who's the first to fall asleep on their broom: Fred or Alicia?"

"Fred, easily," Lee answers with no hesitation. "Doesn't help that he was up until past midnight reading about Spell Theory again."

Ron snorts. "Why would Fred be reading up on Spell Theory willingly?"

Hermione hesitates. She knows Fred and George have started looking in to creating their own, more elaborate pranks, and Fred has approached her about helping him research spell creation since she's quicker at finding just where to look for certain topics in the library. She's not quite sure it's something he wants his little brother to know about.

"There's a product he got from Zonko's that he's having trouble understanding," Lee makes up, seemingly having come to the same conclusion as Hermione. "Hermione suggested Spell Theory to help him figure it out."

"And he  _listened_  to you?" Ron asks incredulously.

Hermione frowns, and shares a look with Lee. "Yes? Why?"

"I guess I just didn't think the twins would listen to—well, no offense, but— _you_. They're not in the habit of listening to… someone who, uh, likes school, even if they are friends with some of their friends."

It dawns on Hermione, then: Ron  _still_  doesn't know she's friends with his brothers. He doesn't know that Fred and George are both  _quite_  in the habit of listening to 'someone who likes school,' as they regularly come to her with the problems they can't solve.

("C'mon, 'Mines," Fred had whined just last week. "You're the only person we know ("—and like" George adds) that can do non-verbal spells that isn't graduated already, help us out."

"I can only do  _one_  spell without an incantation, Fred," she pointed out. "And I regret that now since now you won't bugger off."

"We will if you tell us your secrets," George grinned, despite his Dogwood wand, which was much less suited for non-verbal magic than Hermione's Vine or Fred's Cedar.)

Lee shifts awkwardly in his seat. "Friends with some of their friends?"

Ron takes a bite of his eggs and raises his eyebrows. "Alicia and them."

"Hermione and the twins are friends, too," Lee frowns.

Ron rolls his eyes. "Right, but in the way that  _you're_  friends with Hermione," he says. "Like, if Fred and George were here she wouldn't really be your first choice, but you know her through them and the others that you can sit together and still have common ground, right?"

Hermione and Lee look at each other.

Thinking on it, however, Hermione can't exactly blame Ron. He hasn't said this to be cruel, as if she's not worthy of a friendship with the twins. Plus she can't pin point the amount of times out of the library or the lake she's been with the twins without their other friends. It could be hard to separate them from their other friends. For a long time, Hermione wondered why Fred and George wanted to be her friend, too. And Ron may even be wondering why she wanted to be  _their_  friend.

She doesn't feel like explaining herself right now. Knowing Ron, it could end in an argument, and she doesn't want that so early in the term over something so trivial. They eat their breakfast rather quickly after that, and then Hermione suggests taking food to Harry for when his practice lets out. Ron agrees eagerly and gathers up several pieces of toast while Hermione collects a few portions of his favorite marmalade.

They say their good-byes to Lee and make their way down to the Quidditch Pitch to watch the remainder of practice.

*\

"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little mudblood," Malfoy spits.

Hermione has never heard the term before, but immediately she knows it's not a good one.

Well, she could have told you that on account of  _Malfoy_  being the one to call her that, but, beyond that, she knows it's got to be bad.

Fred and George turn red and dive towards the blond, where the Slytherin captain has to step in front of him to block their attack. Alicia is fuming from behind Oliver, who also looks angry, though Hermione can't tell if that's from Malfoy's words or his disrupted practice. Angelina and Katie are scowling as well; looking angrier than Hermione has ever seen them. They look like they're going to say something until Ron's hex spectacularly backfires and Hermione's rushing over to him.

There's not much time to talk to her other friends as she rushes Ron off to Hagrid's, so she throws them an apologetic smile over her shoulder, and hurries off.

*\

"Hey, 'Mione," Alicia smiles softly. "How're you doing?"

Hermione cocks her head to the side. "Fine?" She looks around the table and finds all of her friends with various states of upset on their faces. "Oh, don't tell me you're still on about that Malfoy thing from this morning, you guys—"

"Should've bloody beat him with the brooms," George says, scowling still. His statement is met with murmurs of agreement. He glares over at the Slytherin table. "Oh, yes, your brooms are so much better for flying, what about for a whack to the head?"

"George," Hermione berates him, "calm down. It's over now."

"Really?" Angelina frowns. "You think it's over? My  _mum_  was called— _that_ , over twenty years ago. Just because that event is over doesn't mean the prejudice is. Malfoy still thinks he's better than you, just because your parents are both Muggles. Talk to me when  _that_  is over."

Hermione sighs. She realizes that this isn't  _just_  about her—it's about the word and the prejudice. She may not mind the word since it cannot harm her, but others who might hear it from Malfoy or anyone else might be hurt by the word. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"Don't be bloody  _sorry_ ," Fred snaps. "Be  _angry_ , Hermione!"

She shakes her head. "Not today. It's—a word isn't going to hurt me. I'm not going to let it. I'm stronger than it."

Alicia sits up straighter, a proud look on her face. "Damn right you are. We can fight prejudice any time, but in the mean time, we're stronger than it."

Katie nods, firm. She reaches for Hermione's hand. "Malfoy or his friends ever come to you again, we're right behind you, but I'm proud of you."

Hermione feels almost overwhelmed with love and support. She smiles at them all and thanks them. "I just don't want to talk about it right now. I think you're all more upset about it than I am. Want to know something?" she asks the table. After she gets several curious looks and 'whats?' she grins at Fred and George. "Ron doesn't realize I'm friends with you."

"What?" Alicia says, surprised. "But… if you're not with Harry and him, you're with us. And you've never hid that."

"Oh, no," Hermione shakes her head, "he knows I'm friends with  _you three_ ," she moves her finger, pointing at Alicia, Katie, and Angelina each in turn, "but he thinks Fred and George—and Lee, I suppose, though maybe not since I sat with him at breakfast—just deal with me when I'm with you. Friends by extension."

"But—you're closer to them than us? Even Alicia doesn't see you as much as Fred and George do," Katie frowns in confusion.

Hermione nods. "Yeah, but how often does  _Ron_  see me with just them? Ron and Harry  _never_  go in the library, and the lake isn't their favorite place to be. It makes sense. He doesn't understand why they would be friends with me—"

"But—" George begins.

"—or why I would be friends with them," Hermione finishes. They all stay silent when she makes that point. "I don't quite know what to do. The strangest things upset him and I don't want to ruin my friendship with him, or make him upset with you two. I might just wait until he realizes we're friends on his own."

George snorts. "We'll have graduated by then."

"Bold, predicting that you'll graduate at all," Angelina says.

"Oi!" Fred yells. "You're not wrong, but  _oi!_ "

"I will drag you two through school by your ears until they fall off to get you to your graduation if I have to," Hermione says.

"And that's all the motivation I'll need to perform well enough to graduate," George announces as he covers his ears. "I don't doubt you for a moment."

"As it should be."

Across the table, Katie flicks her eyes between the three of them, as if she's trying to piece something together. "How can anyone  _not_  realize they're friends?" she mutters. Hermione isn't sure anyone else was supposed to hear, but they all laugh nonetheless. Katie looks briefly embarrassed but recovers. "Honestly, though! They've  _studied_  because of you!"

"And that was a one time thing," Fred says.

"An experiment, really," George nods.

"We decided we didn't quite like it."

"Quickly moved back to the study-free lifestyle."

"Where life is good and essays are turned in incomplete."

George tosses his arm around Fred and gives Hermione a pointed look. "And you never have to worry about time management."

Hermione grimaces. "I think I'm going to be sick."

"At least you'll be able to skive off class if you are!" Fred says happily. Meanwhile, Lee cackles across from her, pointing at her face while the girls laugh at a more reasonable level. She wants to be offended, but she's sure she did just pull a nasty face all because George mentioned a lack of time management. She's a bit embarrassed for herself.

"It is a confusing friendship," Alicia admits, once the group has calmed down. "I still don't know why you put up with them, 'Mione."

Hermione laughs, and smiles wide at the twins in a joking manner. "If you figure it out, let me know. I'm not quite sure, either."

*\

Hermione's mind is stuck on the voice in Harry's head. So much so that she loses track of the days. The 19th is celebrated much like last year but with more of a focus on Hermione, since it falls on a Saturday this year. The twins and Lee set off fireworks for her again, she receives presents from everyone (even Ron and Harry), she gets an owl and more books from her parents, and then they spend the day feasting on sweets that Fred, George, and Lee retrieve ("isn't this map incredible?" George asks, months later when Hermione finally confronts them about how they always seem to have things at the most convenient of times) and playing Wizards' chess ("I like you," Ron says to Katie—the only one who has lasted longer than ten minutes against him) and Exploding Snap.

Ron and Harry leave them around dinner to join Seamus, Dean, and Neville for the rest of the night. They take their place around the fire later that evening when Hermione looks up to see three of the first year Gryffindor girls—sans Ginny. She finds Fred beside her and pinches his side to get his attention. He looks up from his books. "Where has Ginny been?" Hermione wonders. "I've barely seen her, and when I have she's been so quiet. I don't know her too well but she doesn't seem like the girl I met that first night."

Fred shakes his head. "She's not. We've tried talking to her and she won't listen. George thinks she's home sick," he says, keeping his voice down and nodding his head to his twin sitting in the chair across from them.

"And you?"

"What?"

"You said  _George_  thinks she's home sick. What do  _you_  think, then?"

Fred shrugs. "I don't know. I think that might be a part of it, but I think her dorm mates might be nasty. I keep thinking that she's acting like she's… I can't explain it. My sister isn't being bullied, she wouldn't let it happen."

"No one would  _let_  someone bully them if they had a choice, Fred."

"But you don't know her. She's strong—she's been reading up on hexes since she was young, could probably out-hex most people in your year if she really wanted to. If someone were hurting her, she'd hurt them back."

"… maybe they're not being mean physically."

Fred looks down, and Hermione understands he's already realized this. "Yeah."

"Do you want me to talk to her?"

He shakes his head. "Not yet. She gets—weird sometimes. George and I can usually talk to her; she's always looked up to us. We'll give it another go before we make it too obvious that we're bringing someone else in the picture."

Hermione nods, leaning into his side. He wraps an arm around her and finally looks at her. "If you need my help at all, please do tell me."

"Thank you, 'Mine."

*\

It's almost two months before they bring it up again, and when they do, it's Fred who does. It's just a few days gone from Mrs. Norris being petrified when Fred finds her at dinner. Normally, this wouldn't be strange, but she's sitting down the table, where she usually meets with Harry and Ron. She looks up at him in surprise.

"D'you remember offering to speak with Ginny?" he asks. She nods. "I might take you up on that offer. She's inconsolable."

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know if her dorm mates are making this Chamber thing out to be worse than it is, but she's… not right. She's jumpy and scared, and no matter what we say, she won't hear it."

Hermione purses her lips. "I'll see what I can do. From what I've read, it sounds like she has nothing to worry about; the Chamber is said to hold a monster that goes after muggleborns. Purebloods are completely safe. I've not a clue the safety on half-bloods, I'm rather certain they're just as safe as the rest of you lot, but as she's  _not_  a half-blood she needn't worry… "

"The rest of us— _'Mione_."

"What?"

" _You're_  a muggleborn."

She shrugs. "It's not as if I'm running around the castle defenseless, Fred."

"But you—"

"I'm fine, Fred," she says. She doesn't fool him. He doesn't miss her wording—doesn't miss that she doesn't say she will continue to be fine, doesn't miss that she can't bring herself to add an 'I promise.' She can't make herself promise him, she knows that it's one that she may not be able to keep.

Fred is frowning. "Sit with us tonight?"

Hermione sighs. "Alright, then."

They stand and make their way to where they usually sit, just as the others enter the Hall. She takes her normal seat next to Fred and starts piling food on her plate.

"So what's this I hear about you turning Ron's teddy bear in to a giant spider?" Hermione wonders as the rest of their group settles in around them.

Fred and George bark out laughs, and Katie looks over curiously. "Complete accidental magic, but I stand by it to this day that it was justified," he says.

"Freddie didn't even have his broom for a full day before Ron snapped the handle off. When Fred found it, Ron happened to be sleeping and holding his favorite teddy bear. It wasn't his favorite wake up call he's ever had."

"That's awful!" Angelina cries, looking horrified.

Alicia grins. "Fred is much more skilled now, he could turn your dinner in to a spider. Couldn't you, Freddie?"

Angelina shakes her head as she sees Fred smirk and reach for his wand. "I will hex your bollocks off, Fredrick Weasley.  _Do not_."

"Fine, fine. You take the spiders—sorry,  _fun_ —out of everything."

*\

It has been over a month since Colin has been petrified, and just as talk started to die down of the Chamber… well.

Alicia grabs Hermione's arm as she goes to chase after her friends. "Hermione—?"

Hermione shakes her head, cutting off her friend before she can even ask her question. "I don't know. I have absolutely  _no_  idea."

"He just talked to a bloody  _snake_  and you have no idea? Aren't you his best friend?" Lee complains.

Hermione glares, and rushes out of the room after Harry and Ron.

*\

Hermione doesn't get to spend as much time as she'd like with Fred and George leading up to or on Christmas. They're too busy trying to help Ginny with her apparent homesickness (by taking on a new strategy and trying to scare it out of her, it seems), and Hermione has been too focused on making sure Ron's friendship won't fall apart once he realizes the relationship she has with the twins, even though that currently means seeing them less. She also has to focus on the Polyjuice potion, and Harry's distress about Justin and the Heir debacle.

She does get to spend Christmas dinner with them, but half of it is spent sending scolding looks towards Fred who has changed Percy's 'Prefect' badge, and the other half is spent contemplating how the rest of the night is going to go—what with the Polyjuice Potion and all.

She should have contemplated more carefully.

"Merlin, 'Mione," George says the next morning, once Harry and Ron have brought them down to the infirmary. "What the bloody hell—"

"Oh—just… we don't need to talk about it, alright?" she groans.

Fred grins. "No, no—we definitely need to talk about this. Can you stand up? Can I see your tail?"

"Fred!"

"Wh—c'mon 'Mine! You—you've got a  _tail_. An actual  _tail!_  What would you say if  _I_  was in the hospital wing with fur and a tail?"

"'What did you do now?'"

"Hey!"

"Would you  _keep it down in there?_ " Madam Pomfrey hisses. "Now! Or the both of you will lose all privileges to see her while she's in here!"

George's eyes widen. "But—"

Fred smacks him. "Shut it! D'you want to get us kicked out?"

They don't get kicked out and continue to visit her over break. Once other students have returned from break, they start bringing the others along with them.

Finally, after what seems like ages but has actually been just over a month, she's released from the infirmary. They have a small party at dinner that night—Fred and George some how got the kitchens to make her favorites, and Harry and Ron sat with them as well.

Thus far, it's not quite how she pictured her second year, but surrounded by her friends, she doesn't mind.

*\

The months pass easily after that. There's the matter of the diary and what T.M. Riddle has shown Harry, and whether or not Hagrid is truly the one to be feared, and also the stress of picking classes ("but Professor, there must be  _some_  way—you can't possibly make me choose when I don't even know what I want to be!"). Between those worries, on top of the twins' birthday, on top of beginning to study for end of term exams, on top of trying to crack the puzzle of the Chamber and the monster inside time goes by far too quickly.

When the final piece of the puzzle fits in to place, she couldn't be more relieved when she tears the page from the book. Even better, she still has plenty of time to make the Quidditch match.

She runs in to a prefect in the hall—one left to patrol during the match, and Hermione rushes up to her. Penelope listens as Hermione rushes out her explanation. She clenches the page tight in her fist and looks to Penelope next to her. "I know I  _could_  be wrong, but it lines up, doesn't it? Better to be petrified than dead."

Penelope laughs tightly. "Blunt, but true. How did you come to think of a basilisk?"

"Some light reading I did last year. We aren't allowed to take Care of Magical Creatures yet, but I'm Muggle born, so there's still so much that's new to me."

"And—you just? Randomly remembered a creature from last year?"

"Well—" she hesitates, holds the mirror up to look around the next corner. "Not necessarily… There's just been a few things—"

She glances into the reflection of the mirror, Penelope leaning in close. Hermione shifts the mirror for a better view, and spots two beady, yellow eyes.

*\

George can hear Oliver and Alicia yelling from behind him, Fred from next to him, and McGonagall—well... her voice is coming from all around him. He just doesn't  _understand_. This isn't just a game to be postponed.

He starts over towards McGonagall, much like the rest of his teammates, and pauses when he sees the grim look on her face. "Potter, I think you'd better come with me…"

She looks around, and if possible, her face falls further. "Oh," she says, just as Ron arrives. "Perhaps you'd better all come—save for you, Mr. Wood. Head straight to Gryffindor tower."

Oliver frowns, still clearly reeling from the cancellation, but nods.

They set off for the castle then. Everyone exchanges looks with one another while they follow their Head of House. George can feel his frown growing deeper as he recognizes the path they're taking. When they reach the corridor leading to the infirmary, McGonagall slows her pace. "This will be a bit of a shock. There has been another attack… another  _double_  attack."

George feels his heart drop to the floor. He may be a trickster, but he's not a fool. There's not a question in his mind of who one of the people in the infirmary that has been attacked is—not if McGonagall saw fit to bring the entire Quidditch team minus their keeper, plus Ron. From the gasps coming from around him, he knows everyone else has come to the same conclusion as he has.

McGonagall pushes the door open, and they all file in. Their eyes are drawn first to the bed where Pomfrey is tending to a student—a Ravenclaw Prefect if George remembers correctly. He's reluctant to look beyond her, but he hears Ron gasp, groan out, "Hermione!" and Angelina and Katie let out strangled cries while Alicia chokes on a sob from next to Harry. So George steels himself and flicks his eyes to the next bed.

He thinks he must go in to a daze as he stares at her. It's eerie, seeing her so lifeless but knowing (or rather, having to cling to hope and knowledge) that she was alive under some dark curse… Her eyes are open and unseeing, void of any of their natural gleam of joy or curiosity or kindness.

His stomach rolls, and he feels like he might be sick.

"They were found near the library. I don't suppose any of you can explain this?" McGonagall asks, holding up a small mirror. "It was found on the floor next to them."

The group all look around at one another. It's evident in their eyes they're desperate for someone to have some idea of what the mirror might have been for, but no one has a clue. McGonagall looks just as disappointed. Everyone looks back to Hermione except—well.

George looks at Fred out of the corner of his eye, who is staring at the floor. His hands are in tight fists at his sides, and his chest looks like it's heaving breath after breath—a job that shouldn't take as much work as it appears to be. His lips are pressed together in a tight line, and as soon as McGonagall speaks again, saying that she's going to escort them back to their tower, Fred twists on the ball of his foot and is out the door before any of the others.

The walk back to the tower is silent. Fred leads the way, and McGonagall casts worried glances at him—something that tells George he's not wrong in worrying about his brother's wellbeing, not when even their professor is so deeply concerned.

Angelina walks next to him, with Alicia on her other side, and Katie beyond her, and they're all just as quiet verbally, but they can't keep quiet with their eyes. The fear written clear as day in their expressions for their friend, and their concern for Fred—it's just. George doesn't know how to handle it. He's good at making people laugh but there's a time for everything, and this is not the time for jokes, it's not the time for pranks, it's not the time for a reprieve from sadness. He  _wants_  to feel sad, and he wants everyone around him to feel sad, because he refuses to let Hermione be brushed aside—refuses to pretend that Hermione can be forgotten for even a moment.

They make it back to the tower and the entire House listens as McGonagall delivers her speech. Some people look fearful, some look angry, and some look—well.

Some look like his twin.

Listen, George knows Fred is closer to Hermione than he is. Hermione is one of their closest friends, but since just before Halloween last school year, Fred has been  _attached_  to her. He hasn't figured out whether Fred is protecting her like he would Ginny or if he's got some sort of crush (like he and Lee have been teasing Fred about for a few weeks now), but he doesn't think Fred knows either. All either of them understand is that Hermione is  _his_ , in a way that she isn't George's, or Alicia's, or Harry's, or anyone else's, really.

And right now, George can see pain and fear and anger burning in his brother's eyes as Lee ticks off all of the victims and starts bemoaning the Heir of Slytherin and how the professors are being ignorant.

George looks around the room as everyone cheers at Lee's words. He spots Harry beside him, staring at a frozen Percy. He leans in. "Percy's in shock," he tells him. "That Ravenclaw girl—Penelope Clearwater—she's a prefect. I don't think he thought the monster would dare attack a  _prefect_."

Harry and Ron leave shortly after, and Fred isn't far behind them. Alicia, Angelina, and Katie are curled up in the corner, Alicia staring off in to space and Angelina and Katie talking in hushed tones. Lee has taken up a table near a window, muttering about how he might as well get his essay out of the way now, but he's looking out the window much more than he is his parchment.

George can't take it anymore—seeing his friends so dejected while the rest of the common room carries on. There is, of course, a new feel to the room—cautious and anxious—but no one's life has been shifted as drastically as their group's—not right now.

He stands and hurries up to his dorm. Before he can enter, he hears something crashing to the floor. He pauses in his step, and then charges forward. Fred is standing next to his bed, a pile of books scatter along the floor in front of him. He looks up and meets George's eyes. He looks furious. He looks terrified. He looks hurt.

He looks shaken to the core, and for the first time, George isn't sure what to say. He moves forward tentatively and Fred tenses. "She said she'd be fine," Fred mutters. "She lied, y'know?"

George steps closer. "No, she didn't. Freddie, she's still alive. We just have to wait for—"

"Exactly, we have to wait, and so does she," he snaps. "Plenty of time for whatever put her in there to find her and finish her off, don't you think?"

"No—they have a guard posted, and—"

"What do you think a  _guard_  is going to do? What can a guard do that Hermione or that bloody prefect couldn't do?"

"Freddie—"

His brother exhales. A whoosh of breath that George can hear from across the room. He looks helplessly at George. "I'm scared."

"I am, too."

Fred shakes his head. "You don't… I'm  _terrified_ , George. I feel sick, and dizzy, and… I don't want to lose her. She's my best friend."

George stares. There's so much he wants to say, but he can't promise his brother anything. He can't tell Fred that Hermione will be fine, and that she'll come back and scold them for not studying for exams. He can only stare at his brother helplessly, begging Merlin that the right words will come to him.

They don't.

*\

Seeing Hermione in the hospital bed the next day is jarring. When they had been to see her the night before it had been hard, but they'd been in shock—they hadn't been prepared, had barely had time to process it before McGonagall was shuffling them all back to their common room. But now? Seeing her unmoving, in the same position as she had been last night, as if she were a statue rather than a living being? George feels uneasy in an unspeakable way.

Beside him, Fred is grasping the footboard of the bed, and his knuckles are fading to white from the strength of his hold. George moves in close to his twin. He's more rational today, so George tries again. "Freddie," he murmurs. "They're working on a cure—she'll be okay."

"She shouldn't be in here in the first place," he hisses.

"You're right," he agrees, because no, she shouldn't. None of these beds should be filled. Someone in this school is attacking these people and it's not acceptable and—well.

He hates them.

He hates them; he does, for taking away his freedom at this school, for inciting fear and panic in the students, for putting one of his best friends in the hospital wing, for inflicting this damage to his brother's psyche by taking Hermione away (if even only temporarily), for causing all this pain.

There was never any doubt he'd hate them, what with them being the Heir of Slytherin. It wasn't hard to guess that he was going to hate them. But he  _hates_  them. He doesn't need to see their face to know that he'd break any law,  _every law_ , to bring them down.

*\

The next day they bring Lee and Alicia along to visit, only to be turned away by Pomfrey. Fred and Alicia throw fits, all but cursing the school's doctor, before George and Lee finally drag them away.

"That's rubbish," Fred spits, stalking angrily back to the common room.

Alicia nods along. "As if  _we're_  going to bring any harm to her! To any of them!"

" _We_  won't, but if she let us in, she'd have to let others in, too. Including the Slytherins," Lee points out, trying to be rational, trying to calm them. There's a bitter note to his voice. He's still angry that the Slytherins are allowed to remain at the school. Honestly, so is George. He understands that it's one person out of the entire house, but when it comes to protecting the other 75% of the school, shouldn't the choice be obvious?

It's not obvious, it turns out. The days pass slowly until they get news Hermione will be revived that evening and things start looking up until—well.

George looks up when the portrait hole opens. He's expecting to see McGonagall, who will explain just  _what_  is going on, but instead he sees a mop of black hair helping drag a distressed mop of red hair through the entrance. He jumps up, along with Fred, to go help Harry with their brother.

"What's wrong?" Fred asks frantically, moving to support Ron's other side. They get Ron to one of the couches and sit him down. They take their places on either side of him, while George sits down on the coffee table across from them. Harry looks between Ron and Fred, and then George. His face is grim.

George feels a sinking sensation in his stomach (blimey, he's getting real tired of that feeling) and demands, "what is it? What's happened?"

Ron lets out a whine, and looks at George. " _Ginny_ ," he whimpers.

Oh, no.

"She's been petrified?" he gasps.

"She—" Ron tries, but chokes on a hitched breath.

" _Ron_ ," Fred says with a firm voice. " _What_  has happened to Ginny?"

"She was taken inside the Chamber," Harry answers for his best friend. George snaps his attention to the boy and stares, because he surely didn't just— _couldn't_  have said…

"No."

George turns to Fred, who is glaring. His twin shakes his head. "No. She's pure blood, and she… the monster doesn't  _take_  anyone, it—"

"I'm sorry," Harry mumbles.

"No," Fred denies again. "She was—was  _there_  at breakfast, and, in the common room just a few hours ago and—"

It's probably the wail from Ron that slams it home for George and halts Fred's protests.

And then the tears well up in Ron's eyes, and he thinks that's what brings it home for Fred, who says "no" once again, but this time it isn't defiant—it's. Well, it's broken.

George swallows down the pain, keeping it hidden for the time being. "How? How do you know? For sure. How did you—did she?"

"There was another message from the Heir," Harry says, glancing warily at Ron. "We overheard McGonagall telling the other professors about it. She said Ginny was taken."

" _What?_ " comes from behind George. He turns around to see Percy standing behind him. " _Ginny?_ "

Harry nods once.

"But—the message.  _Surely_  they're mistaken."

" _What_  message?" Fred demands.

Percy shifts uncomfortably. "' _Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever_ ,'" he recites. "But—she's not,  _can't_  be—"

"I'm  _sorry_ ," Harry repeats again, and George might be sick.

No, he's definitely going to be sick.

He hurries away from the group and up the dormitory stairs and stumbles into a bathroom. He vomits once, and then again, and then dry heaves a lot more—or maybe he's just hyperventilating. He's really not quite sure.

It goes on until he hears someone enter the bathroom. He hadn't locked the door, apparently.

Harry peaks through the door and his face is carefully blank. "Er—Fred wanted to know if you were okay, but he didn't want to leave Ron."

George gasps in another breath before standing. His vision blacks out for a moment, but he is able to steady himself and walk towards the door. The stairs were going to be the hard part.

Eventually, he gets back to his brothers, seeing them curled up on the couch together as Ron cries silent tears and Fred's face is void of any emotion. He looks around for his older brother.

Harry seems to understand what he's looking for and tells him, "Percy sent an owl off to your parents. He went up to his room a few minutes ago."

George nods, because he doesn't have the strength to march up the steps and demand Percy be with the rest of them right now. He feels the tiniest bubble of anger in his gut, but when he turns away from Harry and back to his brothers, it pops, and he's left with overwhelming pain and sadness.

He moves and takes his place on Ron's other side, curling around him like Fred has: comforting him, shielding him,  _protecting_ him.

Then finally— _finally_ —McGonagall steps through the portrait hole. Her eyes track around the room, settling on them, and her face twists with sorrow and sympathy. If George needed any further proof, well. He had it now.

With a call from her that rings throughout all of the dormitories, the students who had retreated to their rooms start filtering down the stairs. Once everyone is present, including a red faced, puffy-eyed Percy waiting by the boys' stairs, as if he were ready to make a break for it, McGonagall opens a scroll. She stares at it for a long moment, and then seems to decide to take this speech into her own hands.

"It is of my deepest sorrow that I am here to inform you that the time has come for you all to pack. Tomorrow you will be on your way home. This is the final night of Hogwarts. Pack your things, say your goodbyes, exchange floo information," she rambles. "Do not forget what you have learned within these walls. Hogwarts may be closing, but it will live on forever through its students—through all of you."

"But  _Professor_ ," the fifth year boys' prefect, protests. " _Why?_  Surely now that we have the cure for this—"

"A student has been taken, Mr. Meakin," McGonagall interrupts. "We can no longer safely keep you here. I'm sorry, to all of you, but as Gryffindors you must understand: there are times you stand up and fight, there are times that you don't back down, and there are times that you admit defeat. If admitting defeat saves even one of your lives, I will happily do so."

Murmurs roll across the common room, and their attention focuses on the Weasley brothers. They seem to connect what McGonagall said about a student being taken and the way the boys were acting. McGonagall takes a second to look around. "That will be all. It has been an honor knowing all of you and being your Head of House. I suggest you start packing soon."

Students look around the room sadly, and then all at once, head towards the stairs. Soon, there's only ten or so people left in the common room. McGonagall takes her approach, then.

"I can assume you've all heard," she says, with a voice thick with sadness.

Fred looks at her. She nods at him.

"Can I also assume that Percy has been informed?"

Harry answers with a quiet "yes" for them.

McGonagall sighs. "I won't ask how you found out—" her eyes flick to Harry briefly here "—but if you need anything, you only need call for Dumbledore or myself."

Ron shivers in his arms, and George thanks the professor. She turns to leave, but pauses. "I… This need not even be said, but I should say it anyway: Ginny was a brilliant student, and I could see parts of all of you in her. This is one tragedy that is unrecoverable. You have my deepest sympathies."

They stay with Ron and Harry a bit longer, but make it up to their room eventually. Lee and Kenneth freeze in their packing. Lee stands, as if to approach them, but hesitates. Fred turns and moves to his bed. George follows.

Fred clings to George as soon as the curtain is closed, sobbing in to his twin's shoulder. George joins moments later and can't even think of a spell to keep the others from hearing their cries at the moment, for they've lost their little sister, they've lost Hogwarts, they've lost pieces and parts of their beings that they'll never be able to recover, and his heart is shattering.

_("You have no reason to be worried," George assures Ginny._

_"You're safe here," Fred tells her._

_"That's not true," Ginny cries.)_

They should have listened, he thinks. Could it really have been a coincidence that Ginny, his fearless sister would be the one person that was taken by the monster when she had been scared— _so_  scared—all year long?

They should have listened, but they didn't. They just brushed it off as bullying and homesickness—as if Ginny would ever let anyone make her feel inferior or as if she didn't have half of her family with her to make her feel at home when she felt lonely.

They should have listened, but they didn't. They just watched as she wasted away week by week, until the shadows under her eyes looked painted on and her hair lost any natural sheen from where the malnourishment and sleepless nights took hold.

"We should have listened," Fred chokes out, and his voice is wet and hoarse and wrecked.

George doesn't need to point out the obvious, doesn't need to say it, but he does anyways with a small nod to Fred. "But we didn't."

*\

He's not sure how much they actually sleep, but he feels like it's barely been a moment since he's closed his eyes when there's a pounding on their door.

"Mr.'s Weasley," McGonagall's voice comes through the wood. George grumbles and opens Fred's beds curtains and gets up. He looks out the window, frowning when he sees that it's still dark out. He stands and stumbles over to the door. He opens it and squints at McGonagall, whose face is bathed in elation. "Your brother and Mr. Potter did a very stupid thing," she begins, "in entering the Chamber. They have, however, saved your sister."

George stumbles back, rushing to the bed and shaking Fred awake. "Freddie," he hisses. "Fred! Freddie!"

Fred blinks his eyes open and stares up at him. "George? Wh—?"

"Harry and Ron got Ginny. She's  _alive_ ," he breathes.

He's out of bed in less than a second. " _What?_ "

McGonagall clears her throat from the doorway. "Your brother and Mr. Potter snuck in to the Chamber," she recaps, catching Fred up on what he'd missed, "and while it was very stupid of them, I cannot say I regret their decision. Your parents and sister are in the infirmary."

*\

They make it down to the infirmary in record time. The door is propped open and a voice floats into the corridor before they even enter the room.

"—of course, dear, they're all good as new!" Pomfrey is saying.

"No one is hurt?" Ginny's voice is small. George breath catches in his throat. She's  _okay_. His feet move faster.

"They'll make a full recovery within the hour. There's nothing to worry about."

They make it through the door and freeze, seeing their parents, Ginny, and Pomfrey standing next to a cart full of empty cups that George thinks must have been the cure. He—honestly he doesn't really care for that at the moment.

"Ginny," he breathes.

She spins around. Her eyes are red and blood shot and her face is puffy. Fred moves first, running to pull her in to his arms, but George doesn't wait long after that. Ginny lets out a small laugh, and then another. She squirms in their arms and tells them to let her go—that they're being needy and annoying. George laughs and holds on to her tighter.

"Get off of me!" she whines.

"No can do, Ginerva," George teases, ruffling her hair. "Deal with it."

"I've been dealing with you two my entire life, you'd think being targeted by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and almost killed would get me a free pass," she grumbles.

" _Ginny!_ " their mum shouts from a few feet away.

George freezes—curious about what she means by being targeted. She's looking up at him with bright eyes and a mischievous smile though, and the fact that she can joke about it…

"Never," Fred grins, coming to the same conclusion as George. Their sister is healing, and their job now is to make it as painless as possible. "You don't get free passes. You can negotiate terms, however."

She smirks. "I have information on Percy."

George feels his eyes widen. Fred's smile goes feral. They look down at her. "Tell us everything."

She opens her mouth, but just as she starts to speak, there's a cough from across the room. Fred's head whips around, as does Ginny's. The Ravenclaw Prefect is shifting in her bed, looking around, and Hermione is sitting up, blinking her eyes. Fred is at her side in an instant.

"Hey, 'Mine," Fred whispers. He takes a seat on the very edge of her bed and grabs the hand closest to him. "How're you feeling?"

"They're okay," Ginny says.

"What?" George asks.

Ginny looks up at him, her eyes shining with tears. "They're okay. I thought—I thought I killed them, I thought they wouldn't—but they're  _really, actually_  okay…"

George frowns, confused now more than he's ever been. "Of course they're okay. They're all going to be okay."

"I—"

"Why don't you come say hi to Hermione?" George suggests, half because he thinks it will be good for Ginny, half because he is itching to see his friend for himself.

Ginny looks over to the girl. She nods once. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and leads her over to Hermione, ignoring his mum's questions as they pass. When they make it to the bed, Fred is talking quietly to Hermione, filling her in on the events that she's missed. When he sees George and Ginny approach, he quiets.

"I'm so glad you're safe," Hermione says to Ginny. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that."

Ginny chokes on a sob before she launches herself at Hermione. The older girl catches her surprisingly easily for someone who has been asleep for just over three weeks and has just woken up. "I'm so sorry," Ginny wails. "It's all my fault you're in here! All of you!"

"What?" Hermione asks, pulling away from the younger girl. "Ginny—no—"

"Yes, Hermione, that bloody diary—He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named used me to open the Chamber and you're all in here because of me!"

"Ginny, no," Hermione says. "We're in here because of He-Who—because of  _him_. Not you. He  _used_  you. I've read a lot of books on the First Wizarding War, Ginny and he's used a lot of people. Aurors, Muggles, students, Healers… That doesn't put any of them at fault for the things he's done using them, does it? Right, so if it doesn't put them at fault, it doesn't put you at fault. No harm came, did it?"

Ginny shakes her head.

"No, it didn't. It's over now, isn't it? And you'll come to us if anything like that happens again?"

Ginny nods.

"Then you don't have anything to be sorry about, not in the slightest."

George smiles as his sister and Hermione hug once more. He catches Fred eye from across the bed and they nod at one another—an acknowledgement that things are returning back to normal, that things are okay again, that they've made it through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, someone laugh with me at the title of this chapter (do you get it??? she looked into a mirror and got petrified). 
> 
> I know we don’t really get to see much of Hermione’s parents, but I wanted to give them a personality lift from what we do see in the books. Hope y’all don’t mind. If you do, it’s my fanfic anyways and I’m writing it because I want to, so... (but I still really hope you enjoy.) 
> 
> I went and did a flip POV there because well. Hermione can’t really narrate when she’s petrified, can she? I also did not want to just skip the entire end of the book because TEEN FRED ANGST, but I also couldn’t use Fred because I feel like that is too personal to him, and you as readers are now inside Hermione’s head, but have to observe Fred. While George may have much more access to Fred, he is still not Fred, and you cannot see inside his head. You still have to learn with Hermione, even if being in his head for a month at the end of Chamber of Secrets won’t give you a TON on him… I still didn’t want to do that. I almost used Alicia but I also wanted to kind of explore the twins reaction to Ginny, as I have always felt they’re a) closest to her out of all the siblings and b) seem most family oriented after Molly. 
> 
> You’ll also see here I included my headcanon for Fred and George’s wands! It came down to two wood types for both of them: 
> 
> Fred’s wand (written as Cedar into the fic) was almost Spruce. Cedar ultimately won out because Fred has always been the more passionate and wreckless imo—he is the person who would rather ask forgiveness than permission, who would blindly go up against anyone who hurt anyone he cares for. 
> 
> George is more mellow, more calculated and cautious (keep in mind I’m saying he’s more so than FRED, not in general). His wand (written in as Dogwood) was almost Walnut. I quite liked Dogwood more than Walnut, but I didn’t like the limit of non-verbal spells. He’ll just be twice as determined to learn them though, so in the end it won out, as I feel George is truly what the wand is: mischievous but extremely capable of handling things seriously, much more so than Fred. 
> 
> Other wand head canons for the other Weasleys (excluding Ron and Ginny but including Charlie’s new wand):  
> Arthur: Hornbeam  
> Molly: Ash  
> Bill: Alder  
> Charlie: Chestnut  
> Percy: Willow 
> 
> I have a massive project coming up, so I won't be able to proof chapter three for about another week and a half at the very least, but it'll likely be more of the same time frame-- around 3 weeks. It might be a month this time, but I'm hoping not. 
> 
> As always, comments are loved and feedback appreciated (including brit picking).


	3. her eyes are tired (nobody's on her side)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She wishes she were able to take this bloody time turner and send herself back to the start of the year and ruin the timeline. She knows she could never, but oh, how she wishes she could stop herself from ever deciding to burden herself with all of these classes.  
> The desire to be the best and brightest has clouded her entire mind and led to the dissolution of nearly all of her friendships. There’s not even a reason she can think of at this moment that she did this to herself. Because she doesn’t know what career she wants to pursue? Because she wants to learn as much as possible? Because she can?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m an awful person. I’m so, so sorry. 
> 
> Everything happened all at once, honestly. I have a few chronic illnesses: two of them flared around the same time in April and I was in an out of doctors offices, dealing with those. Then came the end of the semester, and I was so busy finishing papers and taking finals. I’m so, so sorry about the wait. Just so you’re aware, the idea is still to have this finished by the end of June. I have several weeks until summer semester begins, so I’ll be editing a lot, and finishing up what hasn’t been completed as of yet. 
> 
> Let me also add that I adore all of you. All of the comments, kudos, bookmarks… I’m so glad that others are getting just as much happiness out of this story as I am. I’m so glad you’re enjoying it. 
> 
> I'm likely going to go over this again in a few days (I'm leaving on vacation and plan to read over it once more when I get back!), but I wanted to get this out now rather than wait an entire week more. Please feel free to let me know of any mistakes that I've made!

**_book iii._ **

_Dearest friend o'Mione,_

_We write to regretfully inform you of our recent earnings_

_That's a lie. We are not regretful in informing you that dad has won 700 galleons. We're taking a family trip to Egypt to visit Bill. We'll be there nearly the entire summer. Mum said Errol is coming but isn't to be used unless of emergencies, and international owl post is so bloody expensive._

_We_ _do_ _regretfully inform you that because of that, we won't be able to stay in touch this summer. We're leaving in a week's time, so we won't have time enough to send Errol again._

_I hope your summer goes well, and we'll send word as soon as we know when we'll be in Diagon Alley._

_Best,_

_George and Fred_

*\

_Dearest twins,_

_Congratulations to you and your family! That's exciting. Learn as much as you can about wizarding culture and history in Egypt. I'll have plenty of questions for when you return._

_Mum and Dad are taking me to France this summer, so we would have had a hard time keeping in touch either way. Now we'll have plenty to talk about when we see each other again._

_I'll also be spending my entire summer assuring them that Hogwarts is a safe place. A basilisk petrifies me one time and they want to pull me from the school! (They don't seem to grasp the idea that the basilisk is_ _dead_ _now and cannot do any further harm.) Wish me luck._

_Love from_

_Hermione_

*\

They meet in the Leaky Cauldron, because that's where Harry is supposed to be. Summer has gone by slowly. It was full of letters and text books and bickering with her mum and dad about how Hogwarts  _was_  safe, and her being petrified was something that was a freak accident. The entire summer fades, along with her muggle life once she sees her friends.

Fred smiles at her, and though George is smiling too, Fred's seems out of place. It's overwhelming to look at and makes her stomach flip. Instead of trying to find where it would fit into a muggy, crowded pub, she gives him one of her own before pulling him in to a hug. After he releases her, she hugs George, and then moves over to greet the other Weasleys. While she's with Ron her mum gets and overenthusiastic greeting from both of the twins, much to the confusion of Ron and Mr. Weasley.

"So good to see you again, Jane," Fred says as he pulls her in to a hug.

She laughs, hugging him back. "You as well, Mr. Weasley. And also you, Mr. Weasley," she smiles at George, who brings her in to another hug.

"And you, Mr. Ganger," George smiles charmingly. "Nice to see you."

Her dad nods at them once, but then is captured by Mr. Weasley and pulled away, so their greetings don't go any further. Fred grimaces. "How long d'you reckon he'll survive?"

"He made it almost forty-five minutes last year," Hermione's mum says, tilting her head.

"Think he'll make it longer this year?" George asks.

"How much more could your father have to ask about?"

Fred and George looked at each other. Fred hums. "Depends on how your husband answers the questions. He might be giving Dad more questions without meaning to."

"Oh, dear. Remind me to save him later."

Hermione frowns. "Why later?"

"I'm too worried that I'll be absorbed in to the conversation if I interrupt too early."

Fred tosses his head back and laughs. George grins. "Keep up those smarts and you might just survive the Weasley family yet."

Hermione's mum smiles at the twins. She then drifts off to speak with Mrs. Weasley. Ron is caught in a conversation with Percy, who is explaining the duties he'll hold as Head Boy (Hermione is sure Ron has already heard this speech, as she can see his eyes glaze over). While her attention is stuck on Ron and Percy, George grabs her shoulder and guides her towards the bar. Fred smiles at the employee and asks for three butterbeers. They receive their drinks and move to a booth in the corner.

"I see you're trying to be modest and not show off your Prefect badge, George," Hermione teases, sliding in to the booth across from him.

George snorts into his drink. "Kenneth got it by default," he says as he sets the cup down in front of him.

"Now—hang on," Fred says, "why am  _I_  not the one you'd assume had gotten the badge?"

Hermione levels him with a look. "I don't think that's a question that needs an answer."

George beams and looks to Fred. "The answer is clearly that 'Mione likes me better."

"'Mine!" Fred moans, dramatizing it with a hand clutched to his chest. "How could you? With my own brother."

"Which bro—"

"My own  _twin_ ," he corrects himself quickly.

Hermione turns her eyes on George and makes what she hopes is a dreamy face. "How could I  _not?_  He's so handsome—"

"I'm handsomer!"

"—and funny—"

"I'm funnier!"

"—and sweet—"

"I'm sweet too!"

"—and kind—"

Fred hesitates. "I'm kind of kind."

"—and doesn't feel the need to defend himself against his twin."

"Idon't feel the need to—" he stops, thinks back on Hermione's words. "Got me there."

Hermione laughs. "When have I not got you?"

George snorts into his drink, yet again. "Yeah, Fred, when has she not?"

Fred laughs, but it sounds just a bit off. He looks over to Mrs. Weasley, and then back. "Will you be going with Ron to find Harry?"

"I think so, yes. My parents are leaving for home soon. They arranged me to stay with Ginny and your mum before tomorrow."

"Mum is making us stick with her," Fred sighs. "They've saved up enough from the winnings so me and George each get our own set of books because they think having to share a set is why we've been getting poor marks."

"Maybe you can go tell her that's not the case," George says.

Hermione takes another sip of her drink. She quirks an eyebrow at them.

"Yeah, didn't think you would," George admits.

The conversation is steered towards Egypt then, and they pull out a stack of three books and wish Hermione a happy early birthday. "Just don't ask us about Egyptian wizarding history. We did not pay attention to half of what Bill said."

"We were too busy trying to hold the tomb with Percy in it shut," George says.

"Charlie and Bill were too scared of mum to perform a sticking spell on the door, so mum caught us and Percy walked free," Fred finishes.

"I can't believe you!" she says. She's not quite sure if it's about the books or the shutting Percy in a tomb. By the tone she can hear in her voice, it sounds like the gratitude for the books is winning.

George doesn't miss it either; especially not once she starts flipping through the pages of  _Mummies and Magic_. He grins at her from across the table. "Don't thank us too much. That's more of a trade off for when we win the Sorting trophy tomorrow."

"Don't be so sure about that," Hermione says. "I'll still be winning, and I'll be keeping these books when I do."

*\

"I can't believe you missed the sorting," George complains the next day.

"Personally I think that means we win by default," Fred says.

"You do  _not!_ " Hermione huffs. "For this year, Angelina will hold on to the trophy.  _Neither_  of us has won."

Angelina smiles. She reaches over and plucks the trophy from the table and tucks it away in her robes. "I'm the real winner this year, because I didn't have to listen to you two argue over 'Mione cheating."

"Hermione cheating in what?" Ron asks, food spilling from his lips.

Angelina brings the trophy back out and shows it to Ron and Harry. "Each year Fred and George face off against Hermione to see who can sort the most first years into the right House. Hermione's won two years in a row, so your brothers think she's cheating. We made this trophy for last year because the twins thought they were going to win and wanted something to hold over Hermione literally."

Ron pauses in stuffing his face. "Why have I never heard about this?"

"Well, you were one of the last ones sorted your first year," Alicia says.

"And you crashed into the Whomping Willow last year," Lee adds. "So you haven't been around to see it."

"So you're still blissfully unaware of how much of a blatant cheater 'Mine is," Fred says. He narrows his eyes at her. She stares back. "See? She's not even denying it!"

"We'll see next year, won't we?"

George scoffs. "Yeah, Granger. We will, if you don't—"

"I won't cheat!"

Katie smiles. "She doesn't cheat. Your brothers are just poor losers."

There's yelling then, a loud argument between the twins, Katie, and Angelina, and Hermione can't help the giggles that bubble in her throat. She sees Ron and Harry staring at her from her peripheral vision and she looks to them and shrugs. Lee is shaking his head, watching his two best friends argue a losing battle.

They abandon their bickering soon enough to finish their dinner. When they've all finished, they leave to head up to their tower as a large group. Hermione thinks this may be the longest span of time that the entire group of her friends has spent together in the past two years. As she hears Alicia talking to Harry about the upcoming Quidditch season, and Ron being pestered by Ginny, Fred, and George, she thinks that she likes this.

*\

She likes it even more when it carries in to the next morning, when all of them sit together at breakfast as well. She gets her new schedule and looks it over, but doesn't get the chance to take it in as Ginny starts poking at her and asking about Harry's fainting episode on the train with concern. As breakfast carries on, it becomes more and more chaotic and she can't hear what half of her friends are saying to her as the others talk over everyone, but she's happy to see them all meshing—at least as much as she could hope. Ron and Harry still mostly talk to one another, but Katie engages them both in talks about Quidditch, and Angelina asks about which electives they chose, and Fred and George and Ginny poke fun at their brother with affection in their voices.

When there's finally a down moment, she picks her schedule back up and hums happily. "Oh, good," she says towards Harry and Ron. "We're starting some new subjects today."

"Hermione," Ron's voice says in her ear. He's leaning over to get a closer look at her schedule, "they've messed up your schedule. Look—they've got you down for about ten subjects a day. There isn't enough  _time_."

She sits up straighter. "I'll manage. I've fixed it all with Professor McGonagall."

"But look—see this morning?" he laughs, pointing at her morning block on the schedule. "Nine o'clock, Divination. And underneath, nine o'clock, Muggle Studies. And— _look!_  Underneath that, Arithmancy,  _nine o'clock!_  I mean… I know you're good, Hermione, but no one's that good. How're you supposed to be in three classes at once?"

"Don't be silly," Hermione brushes him off casually, keeping her eyes away from Alicia, Fred, and George. They'd surely pester her much more than Ron was. "Of course I won't be in three classes at once."

"Well, then—"

"Pass the marmalade," she says, nodding at a jar a bit in front of Ron.

"But—"

Hermione scowls. "Oh, Ron, what's it to you if my schedule's a bit full? I told you, I've fixed it all with Professor McGonagall."

Thankfully, she's saved from answering any further questions by the entrance of Hagrid. That doesn't save her from the concerned looks that Fred, Angelina, and Alicia are giving her. She waves them off. They all turn back to their meals, but she knows that they're all going to be hyper aware now out of their concern. This means she's going to have to be extra cautious.

*\

It was hectic, running around the castle and avoiding her friends when she know she'd already seen them during the time which she's traveled back to.

One of the first times she gets to spend time with Fred and George outside of the Great Hall or library is early in October after Ron leaves the common room with a sickly rat. Harry is still over by the fire copying Ron's star chart, so Hermione takes a seat next to Fred. He eyes Crookshanks. "He's not going to attack me, is he?"

Hermione huffs. "He's a cat, he doesn't know better! Besides, Scabbers was sick before I even bought Crookshanks, it's just old age, I'm sure of it."

"You have to admit Crookshanks really doesn't like  _Scabbers_  in particular," George says.

"Not that we do either. It's why he went to Ron and not one of us," Fred says. At that, Crookshanks stands up from Hermione's lap and walks over to Fred, purring. He stares at the cat. "Okay, Crooks, do you like me because I'm a good person or because I don't like Scabbers?"

Crookshanks only purrs harder and rubs his face against Fred's hand.

"I'll take that to mean 'both,'" Fred says.

*\

Weekends mean no classes, and no classes mean getting to lock her time turner up in a secure box in her room and not worrying about spending time with her friends. Saturday she spends nearly the entire day down at the lake with the twins, Lee, and the girls before spending the evening and night studying and getting ahead on her assignments. Sunday, Halloween, she gets to spend with Ron. Alicia and Fred offer to show them around Hogsmeade, but Ron rolls his eyes and declines. Despite how much Hermione would love to spend the day with them, she doesn't want to put Ron in an uncomfortable position.

Hogsmeade is just as wonderful as she thought it'd be. She and Ron run around the town, going through every door that is unlocked and looking at everything they possibly can. They sit in the Three Broomsticks with Seamus, Dean, and Neville for a while, drinking butterbeer that she can feel down to her toes. They wander around Dervish and Banges, Tomes and Scrolls, Sprintwitches Sporting Needs— _everywhere_. It's incredible, she thinks, and she still can't believe this is the world she lives in now.

They stop at Honeydukes last. She's glad they did, because she feels like other shops would have paled in comparison to this. There were different colors every where you looked, elaborate shelves that brought product down to the younger and shorter customers, samples of sugary sweets set out at the end of every aisle and along the bottom of every wall. The baskets they held expanded when they got to full—but not on the outside, just the inside (she makes a mental note of this; her school bag is over flowing). By the time they make it to the counter, she's almost worried they won't have enough money to pay for all that they gathered (they do).

Once they've paid, they hurry back to the castle, chatting all the while. Hermione is glad that they did this—went out just the two of them. She's always had a nagging doubt in the back of her head that Ron still didn't like her, especially now that she has a cat that chases his rat, but today has proved her wrong. He's still laughing at one of her jokes when they make it back to the castle, and his face is almost as red as his hair.

At dinner she reunites with her other friends, and they join her, Ron, and Harry. They all spend the feast yelling over one another, the Weasleys (sans Percy) all rolling their eyes at one another, and eating until they felt like they would be sick. It feels like the perfect day until she finds herself back in the Great Hall, this time with fear hanging over their heads rather than joy.

She busies herself with preparing her sleeping bag in a corner where no one else has claimed yet. Harry and Ron settle their bags near hers.

"Mind if we join you?" Alicia asks, hugging a sleeping bag to her chest. The rest of their group of friends are arguing over the pile of sleeping bags—Lee wants a red one and refuses a silver because it's one of Slytherin's colors. "Or are you guys going to be discussing  _things?_ "

Hermione glances at Harry and Ron. Harry looks cautious. "I'm going to tell them everything, anyways," Hermione admits.

Harry shrugs. "I suppose."

"But do  _they_  have to join as well?" Ron grumbles, eyeing his twin brothers who are walking over with Lee, Angelina, and Katie now.

Alicia smirks. "Great!"

"What's great?" Angelina wonders, coming up behind them now.

"Harry, Ron, and Hermione have allowed us to be in their presence for the night," Alicia says.

Fred and George bow simultaneously. "Why thank you," Fred says, attempting the most proper accent he can manage.

"Honored to be in your company this eve," George copies Fred.

Hermione rolls her eyes. "Set up your sleeping bags." She turns her attention to Harry. "Do you think Black's still in the castle?"

"Dumbledore obviously thinks he might be," Ron says.

Alicia settles in to her sleeping bag on Hermione's right. "I think probably, but if he got in as easily as he did, he could have gotten out just as easily."

"If he was still in the castle when we found out, there's not a chance he could get out easily," Fred offers as he slips into his sleeping bag, to the left of Hermione.

George, on the other side of Fred, nods in agreement. "There's seven tunnels in and out of Hogwarts that we've found, and we're pretty sure they are the only ones. Filch knows about four of them, one is caved in, one is beneath the Whomping Willow… That leaves him one choice, and he'd need a spell to access it…" He freezes.

"Unless he knows that spell," Lee frowns at George's obvious realization, having lain down next to Ron.

Fred shakes his head. "There's no way." His voice is confident but his eyes are wary. "He'd have to break in and out of Honeydukes as well. There were a few dementors on the outskirts and hundreds of people there. He couldn't have even  _gotten_  to Honeydukes."

"I'm just glad no one was there," Katie speaks up.

Now Hermione frowns, thinking on the odds of that. "Yes. It really is very lucky he picked tonight, you know. The… one night we weren't in the tower…"

"I reckon he's lost track of time—being on the run. Must not've realized it was Halloween. Otherwise he'd have come bursting in here," Ron says.

From around them, Hermione can hear other students tossing theories out on how Sirius Black managed to make it in to the castle. She can see all of her friends looking off—clearly listening as well.

"Maybe he knows how to Apparate—just appear out of thin air, y'know?"

"Disguised himself, probably."

"He could've flown in."

Hermione huffs, annoyed at the student body's suggestions. "Honestly," she says, "am I the  _only_  person who's ever bothered to read  _Hogwarts: A History?_ "

"Probably," Ron says.

"Yes," Fred, George, and Angelina say at the same time. Katie snorts from her place beside Lee.

Hermione rolls her eyes at them. "Because the castle's protected by more than walls, you know. There are all sorts of enchantments on it, to stop people entering by stealth. You can't just Apparate in here. And I'd like to see the disguise that could fool those dementors. They're guarding every single entrance to the grounds. They'd have seen him fly in too. And apart from  _your_  secret passage…"

"The lights are going out now!" Percy yells. Fred and George groan next to her. "I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no more talking!"

Hermione sighs, but turns over in her sleeping bag so she's lying on her back. The others follow suit and the candles are all put out with a quick flick of a wand. Whispering can still be heard coming from every part of the Great Hall—echoing around Hermione, leaving her unsettled.

She stares up at the ceiling—enchanted to look like the night sky—and thinks.

Something nudges against her hand, making her jump. When she turns to see what it is, Fred's pinky is curling around her index finger, dragging her arm closer to his. He pulls his pinky away and puts his hand on her forearm. She looks up at his face, and he's staring at her with a look of fear. It's so unusual to see him look  _scared_  that she's thrown off. She scoots closer and turns on her side.

"Fred?" she says, as hushed as she can. No one reacts around her, so she thinks she did okay.

"Last year you got petrified," he murmurs, "now there's a killer on the loose,  _in Hogwarts_ , and you're his target's best friend and—"

"Fred," she soothes, trying her best to use her voice alone to calm him. Ron and Harry shift in their sleeping bags and she's willing to bet they're looking at Hermione and, by extension, Fred. "We're all in this huge Hall, there's no way Black would attack here and now."

"But in general—"

"We'll talk about that later. For tonight, just go to sleep, yeah?"

There's a long pause, and then, "yeah. G'night, 'Mine."

*\

"Please, most wonder friend o'Mione," George begins as he slides into the seat beside her at lunch, " _please_  tell us how it happened."

Hermione looks up from her book. The rest of the group is settling around them. She frowns at George. "How what happened?"

"The  _bedpans_ ," Fred says. "Ron has to clean out the  _bedpans_."

"Oh," Hermione frowns. "I'd rather not."

"What?" Lee asks as he slams his hands down on the table from George's other side. He leans forward so he can see Hermione. "We should not suffer the horrors of not knowing just because we're older and therefore in a different class!"

Katie rolls her eyes. "Shut it, Lee. She doesn't need to tell us a thing."

Fred bumps Hermione with his shoulder. "We could always ask Lavender if you'd rather not say."

"Oh, Merlin, no. I'd rather talk about it than let her tell you." She shifts in her seat. With a quick glance up to the staff table where Professor Snape can be found shifting his food around his plate wearing a face filled with disgust, Hermione sighs. "Professor Snape stood in for Professor Lupin today. He asked a question, I raised my hand, he didn't call on me, and I answered anyways. He ended up taking points and calling me an 'insufferable know-it-all.' So Ron yelled at him."

It's silent.

Then, well. It's not.

Everyone has something to say—yell, to be more accurate—and they don't bother taking turns. Hermione is left trying to pick out who calls Professor Snape a tosser, who questions his right to even be teaching, or who goes on about hiding dung bombs in his classroom (though just through the content of that last complaint, it's not hard to decipher who could have said it). After a minute or two, Hermione slams a hand down on the table, gathering their attention immediately. Everyone looks at her, and she doesn't think she's ever seen the girls look so mad.

"Calm down, please," she says. Looking around, she can see that they've gained the attention from multiple groups from at least all four tables. "It's over, it's done, Ron wrongfully got a detention and now I feel awful."

"Don't," Katie says, a scowl set deep on her face. "You didn't do anything wrong, Ron didn't do anything wrong. Sometimes people are just awful and Snape is an  _awful_  person."

"I can't believe I have to feel bad about Ron's detention," George complains.

"I can't believe I'm going to  _thank him_  later for getting detention," Fred joins.

"Aw," Alicia coos, "are you scared your little brother is going to know you actually appreciate and care about him?"

"Yes," Fred says, deadpan. Hermione huffs and shoves him over, and then he's complaining for an entirely different reason.

*\

"Hermione? Why on earth did the twins thank me for getting a detention for you?" Ron asks later that night as they walk back to Gryffindor Tower from the Great Hall.

Hermione shrugs. "They do appreciate people who do things for their friends."

"They didn't even mock me for having to clean out the bedpans!"

"They appreciate what you did. All of my friends do. I do, too. I'm just sorry you were given detention over it."

Ron blinks, and shares a confused look with Harry. "Right."

She doesn't hear anything further on the subject.

*\

"C'mon, don't worry, 'Mine," Fred says.

"Pomfrey would have told us by now if he was dead or dying," George reassures her (unsuccessfully, might she add).

"You don't  _know_  that," Hermione says, tears still fighting to break free.

"Yes, we do," George says. "You forget—we were the ones waiting for you last year. She may not be able to tell us everything, but she does tell us enough. If something were seriously wrong she would have told us by now."

As if she'd been summoned, Madam Pomfrey comes out from behind the curtain just then. Hermione's heart jumps to her throat. "Oh, is he going to be alright?" Hermione asks anxiously.

"He'll be just fine," the old woman says. "He'll be waking up soon, so you can all… go and wait for him, I suppose." She looks at the team, minus Oliver, plus Hermione and Ron. She's clearly not entirely pleased, but Hermione doesn't know if this is because of the mud, the amount of people, or the overall reminder of Quidditch. Either way, Hermione doesn't care. She hurries past the curtain to Harry's bed.

The others fall in to place around her, and she barely hears the words they're saying. Not until someone elbows her, at least. She turns and sees George smiling soft at her. "But he didn't even break his glasses," he says. She wants to point out that her impervius charm would not have prevented his glasses from breaking, but then, immediately after Angelina mentions how scary it had been, Harry's eyes open.

Hermione wants to say something—do something—but she's frozen. Relief flows through her and she lets the tears she'd been holding back fall.

"Harry!" Fred says from next to her. "How are you feeling?"

Harry doesn't answer, just looks confused for a moment before shooting up. Hermione flinches away from him and Fred's hand goes to the span between her shoulder blades to steady her. "What happened?" Harry asks.

"You fell off. Must've been—what?—fifty feet?"

Alicia nods at Fred's words. She's staring at Harry with wide eyes. Hermione can see her friend's hands trembling at her sides. "We thought you'd died," she admits. Hermione tries to bite back a gasp, but it comes out as a whine instead. Fred's hand moves from her back to one of her shoulders and squeezes. Katie grabs her hand and twines their fingers together. She still doesn't feel okay.

They continue talking about the game, and Hermione wants to scream when Harry is more concerned about whether or not they lost the game rather than the fact that he quite possibly could have lost his  _life_.

That weekend feels like the longest of Hermione's life. She spends the entire time with Ron and Harry in the infirmary. Harry slowly stops caring about the fact that Gryffindor lost the match, and slowly, slowly starts looking more concerned and afraid. While Hermione doesn't want Harry to need to be either concerned or afraid, she's glad that he at least seems to have a shred of self-preservation left even if it seems to be hidden beneath his drive to win.

*\

The last Saturday of the term was another rare day where Hermione got to sit with both groups of her friends. They all would be walking over to Hogsmeade together, sans Harry, so they all decided to sit together at breakfast. It happens, sometimes. The Weasleys  _are_  siblings and while they may not be the best of friends, they're still a tight knit family, which now includes Harry as well. She  _had_  been excited for it, but then Ron reaches over the table and tries to steal her already buttered piece of toast and when she stops him—

"C'mon, 'Mine."

Fred cuts off the conversation he'd been having with Lee and frowns at his younger brother. His eyes narrow. "What did you just call her?"

"Uh-oh," Katie murmurs as she pats Ron on the shoulder. "Good luck."

Ron looks between Katie and Fred and then the rest of the table. "What? Don't you guys call her 'Mine? What's the matter with calling her that?"

"Fred is the only one who can call her that," Alicia explains. "As the nickname implies, he's possessive."

Fred lets out a dramatic gasp. "I am not possessive! I just think that if I have a name like  _'Mine_  for 'Mine, it should be  _mine_."

"Just listen to him," Hermione says with an eye roll. She takes a bite out of the toast that Ron had been trying to snag. "Two and a half years and he hasn't budged on this, and I'm too scared of what he'll do if I let anyone else use it."

"What?" Ron says. "So Fred is the only person who ever has called you 'Mine?"

"George tried once," Hermione says.

"It was the first time I tasted the bitterness of betrayal from my own twin," George says darkly. Like a switch, his face lightens up and he grins wide. "It was also the first time we realized Hermione swears at us when she's mad."

"Why is it only Fred that can call you 'Mine?"

"Because she's mine. And not like—not 'Mine, as in her name. But mine as in she belongs to me," Fred grins teasingly. He throws an arm around her shoulder. "I am also hers, but she can't get any cute nickname from my name. Also stop calling her 'Mine."

Hermione rolls her eyes and shoves Fred over, right in to Lee who yelps as he spills a spoonful of stew down his robes. She gasps, apologizing to him. The conversation moves on as Lee complains about having to change before leaving, and Fred and George telling Lee that they'll wait for him if the others want to leave. Ron doesn't bring up the nickname again.

*\

"How. Stupid.  _Are you?_ " Hermione hisses once she gets back that night. Fred and George are sitting in the corner, bent over a piece of parchment that has been scribbled on over and over again. She doesn't even look at it, knowing that it's likely a prank and it runs the risk of making her even more upset.

Fred looks up. "Very, probably. What did we do?"

"You gave the map to Harry? When a convicted murderer is out looking for him?"

"Aw, c'mon 'Mione," George says. "It'd be impossible to find Harry out in a crowd like that, and if he had the crowds would have just made it impossible to follow Harry."

"It would certainly  _not_  be impossible, and we know that Sirius Black has no mind for bystanders, don't we? You could have gotten not only Harry, but Ron and I and anyone else who was near us  _killed!_ " Hermione says. Both of them pale considerably. They clearly hadn't thought it through. "I know you feel bad for him but there is a  _reason_  McGonagall and Dumbledore won't let him leave the castle!"

"'Mine…"

"No, don't. Just… be smarter. We all know you're some of the brightest students here. I'm sure whatever is on that piece of parchment can prove that. So please, for Harry's sake act like it."

"Of course," George nods. "We're sorry."

Fred agrees. He grabs her arm and pulls her into the chair beside him, so she's half on the arm rest, half falling on to his lap. She shoves at him until he moves over. When they're both situated, he looks at her. "You know we didn't mean to put him at risk, right? We wouldn't—I promise we wouldn't be  _that_  dull and put him in danger if we had thought of that. We really thought—"

"I know," she says. "I know. I just want you to think of these things."

"We'll try," George tells her.

"Thank you. Now—would you like to tell me what you're working on or would you rather hear about what we learned about Sirius Black first?"

*\

Christmas break passes quickly, but not smoothly. When Harry receives his Firebolt and Hermione speaks with McGonagall, her two friends turn against her and she's left alone. She visits Hagrid once (twice, a few times), and spends time in the library to avoid their angered looks and is glad when the rest of the school returns and she's not alone. Their first night back Fred and Alicia accompany her to the library and she's relieved to not have to travel all the way to Hagrid's just to have any company.

She still goes to see Hagrid despite her other friends being back. She's helping him with Buckbeak, and he's also someone who has just as much stock in keeping Harry alive as she does, so he isn't angry with her for trying to protect Harry. The rest of them, however—

Hermione has just reached the castle when she finds him. He's lying on his stomach on one of the benches just inside the castle, and it seems he's been waiting for her. When he sees her he perks up and closes the book he was reading (Hermione can tell from the spine that it is one of the magic theory books she's lending him) and tucks it in his bag once he's standing upright.

"Hey," she smiles, and he greets her back.

They start walking together down the hall when he slips an arm around her shoulders. She leans in to his side. "Where were you? Nearly Headless Nick told me you left over here."

"Hagrid's," she says. "Why?"

"I barely saw you before the holidays except for when you were yelling at us, and you were too busy studying in the library last night to talk," he shrugs. "Plus, I've heard some things."

"What things?"

"Did you  _really_  get Harry's  _Firebolt_  taken?" Fred asks.

Hermione's head falls forward so she's staring at the floor, and she stops walking. "Ugh, not you, too."

He pulls his arm back from her frozen form. "I'm sorry, but you do understand what a Firebolt is, don't you?"

She picks her head up and glares at Fred. "I  _do_ , thank you. So I hope  _you_  realize how curious it is that Harry happens to have been sent the newest, fastest, most efficient broom stick anonymously whilst a wanted murderer—who is clever enough to not only break  _out_  of Azkaban, but also break  _in_  to Hogwarts—is on the loose." Fred's annoyance has melted off his face, and he's now left looking dumbstruck. "Exactly," she says. "Everyone seems to be asking me to apologize for caring about Harry's safety and  _life_. If it means you guys winning a Quidditch match over the risk of losing Harry's life, I'm sorry. I can't support that."

"That's… alright." Fred relents. "I'm sorry. It's—it's a Firebolt and I hadn't even thought about all the… other stuff, as you must know by now." He flashes a smirk. "So sorry for doubting you, Professor o'Mione."

"It's fine," Hermione says, smiling at the nickname. That one has become common for when she's clearly outsmarted her friends. It's not a bad name to be called—doesn't have the same condescending tone as 'know-it-all' and has never been used maliciously. "I'd love to be proven wrong, it's just something I'm not willing to risk. Can you tell your brother that I'm not out to get Harry? I am tired of being targeted for trying to protect my friends. Neither of them have been speaking to me."

"Ha! You ask me that as if you believe he'll listen to me any better than he will you."

She reaches over and links her arm in his as they reach the steps to the quad. "See, the difference is, you like Quidditch and are on the team. He'd listen better because this matters more to you than to me."

"You over estimate Ronnikin's trust in me, assuming there's any trust at all," he tells her. He's smiling down at her but there's something different in his face. She can't place it, but it's nothing bad. He seems…  _lighter_ , like he's weightless, today. Right now. It makes her feel like she's floating, as well.

"Where's George?" she wonders. It's not that they're never a part—Fred often chooses to study in the comfort of the library with Hermione, Alicia, and Katie, while George prefers the chaos of the common room with Lee, Angelina, and Ginny. Fred frequently visits the training grounds to fire hexes and spells at the dummies, while George often can be found flying at the Quidditch Pitch if he's separated from his twin. They're separate units, is the thing. Most people at the school don't understand and can't process that fact, but they can, do, and will spend time separate from each other. Just not all that often.

"He's at the library for a Defense essay that had been assigned for break," he answers her question nonchalantly. "It's due tomorrow. Lee and Angelina are with him."

"And  _your_  Defense essay is…?"

"Done," he shrugs, the movement of his arm tugging Hermione's with it until she's another inch closer to her friend. "I worked on it yesterday with Alicia when we were in the library."

"Oh. Maybe you studying in the library is a good thing, then. You should tell George to join us more often, maybe you'll both get better marks."

"No one said my essay would get good marks."

"Excuse me?" Hermione says, stopping in her tracks, yet again. "Why would you—what's the point of even doing the essay if you're not going to do it properly?"

Fred purses his lips. "Poor marks are better than failing marks?"

"Wha-  _Fred!_ " Hermione gasps. She dives for his school bag. He tugs it away from her and moves it so it's above his head, far out of her reach. She's never hated her height more than she does now. "Let me see your essay!"

"No!" he says, and starts running down the hall, bag still with the bag high in the air. "I don't  _want_  good marks!"

Hermione huffs, and pulls out her wand. She  _accio_ 's the school bag, and Fred freezes when it flies out of his hand. He turns around to see her wiggling her wand. "Maybe if you wanted good marks you'd remember that we happen to have  _magic_. Then maybe you would have been successful."

"I remember that perfectly fine, I  _did_  grow up with it," he says, walking back towards her, watching as she digs through his bag. "I thought maybe after you tried to take it with physical force you'd forgotten."

"Sure you did," she laughs. She pulls out all the scrolls of parchment she can find and glances at each one. "' _Fianto Duri and its practical uses._ ' Wow, you didn't even make your hand writing three times its normal size."

"Lupin actually makes class interesting," Fred says defensively. "The essays aren't horrible to do."

The essay is good, is the thing. It's well researched, well thought out, and well written. "I imagine if you paid attention in all of your classes that none of the essays would be horrible to do."

"Maybe not," he says. He grabs his bags and the other scrolls from Hermione to slip back in his bag, but allows her to continue reading the Defense essay. "The thing about paying attention in boring classes and doing well in boring classes is that if you do it for long enough, there are expectations. I can't meet those expectations all the time. People haven't liked when we haven't met their expectations in the past, so it's not worth giving any of the professors a reason to expect… anything."

It's sad, the way his voice lilts on the word 'expectations.' Like he'd had too many negative run ins with the word to view it in a positive light anymore. Hermione knows that feeling. She rolls the essay back up and hands it to him. "Regardless of what is or isn't expected of you, you're still the smartest wizard I know."

Fred scoffs as they start walking again. "You have met my brother, right? Percy? The bushy red head that you sat with half of first year?"

"Percy hasn't ever created his own potion. He's not developing his own spells. He's book smart, yes, and one of the brightest wizards in this castle. But you—you and George both. You're  _smart_. I learn loads from both of you, and  _I_  don't expect anything from you except to be my friend."

His expression softens, and the look that he'd had mere minutes before is back. This time, his eye light with something new. Something—maybe not new. It looks familiar, but it isn't something that Hermione can place, so she calls it new. He tosses his arm around her once more. "That's an expectation I can live up to."

*\

"Alright," Fred says, dropping in to the seat next to Hermione just over a week later.

She jumps, startled, and looks up at him. "Merlin, Fred! You scared me!"

"I called your name three times."

Hermione frowns. "You did? Oh, Fred, I'm sorry. I've just got so much work to do—"

"Right. That's why I'm interrupting."

"Pardon me?"

Fred sucks in a deep breath and then leans his body forward and rests his elbows on his knees. He glances at her pile of books and then at her. His face is exasperated. "'Mine, you can't do this to yourself. I don't know  _how_  you're doing it, and I'm not sure if I  _want_  to know—" he pauses. "No, nope. Forget I said that, I definitely do want to know—but! You shouldn't be. You're not… It's too hard on you, 'Mine. You don't have anything to prove, you—"

"Well  _apparently_  I have to prove it's not too hard on me," she snaps, glaring at Fred openly. How could he think that she couldn't handle this? She's been handling this since September and she's been plenty successful!

Fred groans, and his head falls into his hands. "No! That's  _not_  what—"

"I don't  _care_  what you meant, I  _care_  what you implied!"

His head whips up again, jaw dropped open. "I didn't imply anything!"

Hermione scoffs. She picks up her bag—one that she worked with Professor Flitwick on, to expand to hold all of her books but not grow bigger—and begins shoving her books in to it. "You implied that it was too much. You implied I couldn't do it. You  _said_  I couldn't do it!"

"I said you couldn't do  _this_  to  _yourself!_ " Fred argues. His voice is laced with anger and it's the first time Hermione has ever had that anger directed at her. It's unsettling. By the time she even registers it, he's speaking again, in a gentle voice. "You're doing too much, even for you, 'Mione. I've barely seen you lately. You've been missing meals, running all over the castle somehow, you clearly aren't getting enough sleep…"

She freezes, half way to loading another handful of books into her back. "Even for me? What's that supposed to mean?"

"That you're brilliant, but—"

"Does it? Or does it mean that all I care about is school and—"

" _What?_  No! 'Mine, why would I of all people—"

"Of all people?"

"I'm your best friend!"

"But you're not my  _only_  friend!"

"When did I say I was? Merlin, you're losing your head," Fred huffs. "I'm just trying to help."

"Maybe you should wait until your assistance is asked for," Hermione says.

Fred stares at her, eyebrows raised. He's frowning, and his eyes aren't soft like they usually are. "I guess I should," he says. He nods at her bag. "Don't bother packing up then, I'm on my way out. Guess I'll wait until you need my—my  _assistance_."

Her voice is dull as she says, "please do." With that, he's up and walking away. She's glaring at his back at he goes, so she doesn't notice someone coming up on her other side—she does notice when they drop heavily in to the seat beside her, however. She spins around, startled, and finds Alicia staring at Fred's retreating back, as Hermione had been doing moments earlier. Alicia gives a low whistle. "Hasn't anyone ever told you not to do your linens in public?"

"Oh, sod off," she says, but it's more playful than cruel (she thinks, anyway). She's just so  _tired_. She hopes Alicia understands that. "What do you want?"

Alicia frowns. "I just wanted to check in on you."

"Can you check in later? I have… I have two essays due by Monday and I only have the outlines written— _oh_ , how have I fallen so behind? We've only been back in classes for a week!"

Alicia takes a moment to take in all of the books spread over the table. "'Mione... How are you in all of these classes? That…  _no_  time table would allow that…"

"Mine does," Hermione shrugs, and hopes her tone isn't too short. She needs Alicia to go away. There's so much work to do. "I worked it out with Professor McGonagall over the summer. I  _have_  to keep up with the work or she'll think I can't handle it so if you could please just… let me get to work, I'd thank you."

Alicia sighs. "All right. Good luck, I guess."

Hermione thanks her as she said she would and turns back to her runes table and tries to calm her racing brain.

*\

"Why weren't you at lunch?"

Hermione startles, dropping her quill to her paper out of surprise. She picks her head up and finds Ginny sitting across from her. "Oh," Hermione says. She looks at the clock hung on the library's wall. "I didn't realize the time."

Ginny narrows her eyes. "Are you sure it wasn't because of Scabbers?"

"Yes," she huffs, turning her glare to her books. "I'm not going to dwell on that rat's death when Crookshanks had no part in it. I'm very sorry for Ron's loss but it's none of my concern."

Ginny sighs. She pulls out something wrapped from her school bag and passes it across to Hermione. "You need to eat. Classes are hard enough, I know  _I_  wouldn't want to go through a school day without having had anything to eat."

If she's being honest, Hermione wasn't really looking forward to finishing out the day without food once Ginny had told her lunch was over, either. "Thank you."

Ginny pulls out the chair across from Hermione. "Hermione, I just wanted you to know that the twins—"

"Oh, Ginny, I don't have time for this. If anything important with them happens I'm sure I'll figure it out."

"But it's about what Fred said Scabbers and Crook—"

"Like I said, Scabbers is no concern of mine." The divination book was staring up at her mockingly. "Whatever Fred has to say or do, I don't care."

"Since when do you not care about what Fred says or does?"

"I do," she says honestly. Even if she's angry with him right now and he's angry with her, she still cares about him. She sighs. "I do, I just don't have—I don't have the time right at this moment."

Ginny blinks. "You don't have time for your best friend?"

"No, that's not—I don't even know where we stand with each other right now, but if he's not injured or in trouble, I—I  _really_  need to get this assignment done. I have three other essays that I have to finish before classes on Monday and I don't have the time for this kind of stuff."

Ginny doesn't say anything as she pushes herself out of her seat and walks away. Hermione considers calling after her to apologize for a moment, but in the corner of her eye she sees the stack of books she's working from and makes a mental note to find her friend later and apologize then.

*\

"Did you even come to the match?" Harry's voice asks.

She doesn't look up—too focused on the text in front of her. "Of course I did, and I'm very glad we won, and I think you did really well, but I need to read this by Monday."

"Come on, Hermione, come and have some food," Harry says, and it sounds desperate. That's how everyone's voice has been around her lately—desperate. Well, either that or very, very delicate, like if they speak too loud or with any sort of inflection in their voice Hermione will break. She thinks they may be right.

"I can't, Harry," she says, finally looking up. She still feels that her left hand is holding much less weight than her right—a reminder that she's still got so much more reading left to do. Not that she needs a reminder—she's been counting down with every page she flips. She knows exactly how much more she has to read. "I've still got four hundred and twenty-two pages to read. Anyway—I don't think anyone really wants me to join in."

Harry looks to Ron, and Hermione does as well, but she also lets her eyes fall to Fred and George. Neither of them are looking at her—neither of them have  _been_  looking at her for nearly a month now. Sure, she might catch George's eye sometimes when Fred leads him in a different direction, but she hasn't seen Fred looking in her direction since four days after they fought when she seemingly ignored him one too many times.

The thing is, she knows Fred was her best friend, even more so than George and Alicia and Harry. As strange as others found it, they just fit together seamlessly. He brings out the goofiness in her while she brings out the studiousness in him, and they… work. She hadn't realized how much he had helped her though. It was hard to get through school leading up to Christmas break but she had been okay. She'd been sane. She knew that was largely due to Fred and Alicia but—

"If Scabbers hadn't just been  _eaten_  he could have had some of those Fudge Flies," Ron says loudly and Hermione's eyes flick to him. "He used to really like them—"

She focuses back on Fred and George who are each holding three bottles of Butterbeer for no apparent reason as far as she can tell. George's eyes find her and he looks almost apologetic. Fred just nods at Ron and—honestly, that's it for her. All of her work holding herself is undone and tears fall from her eyes. She slams her book shut and hurries from the room.

When she reaches her dorm, the only person there is Sally, who takes one look at Hermione and then excuses herself so she can attend the party. Hermione waits for the door to close behind the girl before falling to her mattress, drawing the curtains, and letting her tears fall freely.

It's too much. It's too hard on her, just like Fred had told her all those weeks ago. She's not fooling herself in to thinking that everything is all right. She had tried to convince both Fred and Alicia of that and it just ended up costing her the two best friends she'd ever had. No more lying.

"Hermione?"

Hermione freezes. She hadn't heard the door open.

"It's Ginny, 'Mione."

She grabs her wand and casts a few quick spells to clean up her face so she doesn't look like she'd just been crying (so, okay, a bit more lying). She opens her curtain. "Hello."

Ginny eyes her. "I heard you crying when I came in. Cleaning your face up isn't going to do anything to make me think you weren't crying."

Hermione frowns. "Oh. Well, I just—"

"You didn't  _just_  anything, Hermione," Ginny sighs. She moves to sit on Hermione's bed. "I'm not an idiot, and I don't appreciate being treated as one."

"I'm sorry," she says. "I can't talk about it, though. I can cry about it, and I can be upset about it, but talking about it is something I just  _can't_  do. Not right now."

"Then let me be upset and cry with you, yeah?"

Hermione doesn't want to bring her friend down. She doesn't want her friend to be sad with her, or have to listen to her sobs and deal with her tears. It sounds like a nice offer at the moment though, despite all of that: to have someone sit with her so she's simply not alone. So, she nods and lies back against her pillows, and Ginny follows. There's no words that need to be said as Ginny combs her fingers through frizzy locks and Hermione lets her tears fall once more.

*\

The first time she cried to Hagrid was immediately after her fight with Fred, and when Alicia, Angelina, and Katie stopped talking to her so they could instead give her pitying looks. That may have been the first time, but it's not the last.

She finds herself there again, handing over a scroll of new information that she hopes can help with Buckbeak's case, when Hagrid asks how she's doing. It doesn't take more than that for her tears to start falling. "Surely you've heard about Sirius Black breaking in to the dorms by now," she says, sniffling.

"Eh, yeh," Hagrid says. "Hard ter miss that kinda talk 'round right now."

Hermione nods. It was all  _anyone_ , even the teachers, talked about for days. "It's just… oh. I know he's still angry at me and Merlin knows I'm not happy with him but  _I can't just lose him!_ "

"Hey, now," Hagrid says, reaching a giant hand out to pat her shoulder. The weight of a single pat nearly knocks her off the couch. "He's alive an' well. Yeh don't have ter worry abou' losin' him—"

"They haven't caught Black!" she wails, well on her way to being distraught. "I might have to worry about losing him, or Harry, and I  _especially_  don't want to lose them when we're all upset with each other!"

"Oh," says Hagrid. He reaches up to scratch his beard. "Well, I'm sure tha' ev'rythin' will be alright, Hermione. We've got some'o the best wizards at Hogwarts an' those ruddy dementers. Won't be long before he's caught, don' you worry abou' that."

Hermione is worried. She doesn't think she'll  _stop_  worrying until Black is caught. Making Hagrid worry with her wouldn't accomplish anything, however. That's why, instead of listing all the reasons that she will worry and all the reasons he should worry, she smiles and thanks him.

*\

She leaves Divination class fuming.  _No_  good grade is worth sitting through that worthless blabber.

She's not sure where she ends up. It's an empty hallway, one that she's almost certain she hasn't seen before. It's lined with suits of armor and portraits that are talking and singing and yelling at her. She thinks that if she's going to cry in public, it might as well be where no one goes, so she slides down the wall and lets the tears fall.

She wishes she were able to take this bloody time turner and send herself back to the start of the year and ruin the timeline. She knows she could never, but oh, how she wishes she could stop herself from ever deciding to burden herself with all of these classes. The desire to be the best and brightest has clouded her entire mind and led to the dissolution of nearly all of her friendships. There's not even a reason she can think of at this moment that she did this to herself. Because she doesn't know what career she wants to pursue? Because she wants to learn as much as possible? Because she  _can?_

None of those are good reasons. None of those are worth the troubles she's faced, the friends she's lost, the time she's wasted. That's exactly what she did, too. She wasted her time. Why did she ever want to take divination in the first place? She had never had an interest in it, and it wasn't even required for  _any_  of the careers she was looking in to. The Ministry waved Muggle Studies requirements for any witch or wizard who was raised at least partially in muggle society. There had been no incentive for her to take either of these courses, but she did anyways. And, well. She hates herself for it, at least right at this moment.

She doesn't have a clue about how much time has passed when she hears footsteps and voices. Looking up isn't an option—not when she's just spent Merlin knows how long crying, so she freezes and hope she's off to the side enough that the people walking by won't even recognize her. As their voices draw closer, however, she's sure she won't be so lucky.

"Is that—"

"Yeah. Go on, guys. I've got this."

"Are you positive? I can stick around. I want to make sure she's okay."

"Yeah, Alicia, I'm sure. I'll see if she'll find you after we talk, alright?"

There's a sigh, and then several people walking away, though she can't pick out how many pairs of feet there are. She has no idea how many people have just seen her like… like  _this_.

And then there's more footsteps—ones that approach her and stopping several meters in front of her. She looks up. Her breath catches in her throat, but she recovers quick. "I don't want to hear it right now," she says, her voice strong even as more tears track down her face.

"I don't want you to hear me," Fred says as he walks closer. " _I_  want to hear  _you_. I want to know what is going on, 'Mine."

And  _oh_ , the nickname. It's so, so simple, but it makes her cry harder because it's been… well, truthfully she doesn't know how long it's been. Her days have gotten continuously longer and longer as she tried to fit everything in and she doesn't even know what day it is half the time. And his nickname—the one that no one else bothers to use because of his  _dumb_  joke about it, which everyone else has taken to heart like she some how is his—just reminds her of him. Maybe even the time that she's missed spending with all of her other friends. But… Fred. Well, Fred has always been a source of security to her. Safe and caring and wonderful—like a protector she had never expected to have.

A protector that she went ahead and lost.

She curls in to herself, sobbing once again. She can't—she won't be around him right now, not when she needs him but can't have him. It's entirely too painful, and she's too exhausted right now. Mentally and physically and emotionally, she's drained and it's so, so hard to function, and so, so hard to be reminded of how horribly everything has gone.

She's lost in her tears and misery until she hears a soft humming. It's then that she's realized Fred has sat down next to her and pulled her in to a tight hug. She's got his robes in one of her hands, fist closed tight around it and surely creasing the fabric.

"Back with me?" Fred mumbles, but she'd really like him to continue humming.

Hermione nods. "I… I don't need you here if you're just here out of pity."

She hadn't realized Fred was stroking her back until his hand came to an abrupt stop. "Is that  _really_  what you think of me?"

"I don't know," she answers quietly.

"I'm here because I  _care_ , 'Mine. I've always cared, and if you—"

Fred's voice breaks off. His hand begins rubbing up and down her back again. The tension in his torso melts away. If there's one thing Hermione can understand right now, it's that he's surrendering. He shouldn't have to.

"I'm sorry," Hermione says. "This is all my fault."

"'Mine…"

"It is, and you all deserve better."

Fred freezes his hand again and the tension returns. "Better than  _what?_ "

"Me," she says. "Better than someone who cares more about school than her relationships. Someone who doubts her friends. Someone who is too proud to admit she's made a mistake."

"There will  _never_  be  _anybody_  better than you, Hermione," Fred says fiercely.

She shakes her head. "There are many people better than me."

"Not to me. Never to me," Fred says, but it sounds more like a promise. "Unless we're including myself and George. Then—well. Might be a tie. It's up for debate."

Hermione giggles. She pulls far enough away from his body that she can look up to his face. He's already looking down at her and when their eyes meet, Hermione feels relief flow through her. She feels safe again, as if nothing could break her no matter how it tries. Fred just brings that invincibility out in her.

"I am going to need to know what's going on. You don't have to tell me everything. Just tell me enough that I can stop worrying about you. My grades are suffering because I'm worrying about you too much."

She laughs and it feels like the first time in  _ages_  that she's done so. "Because of  _me_ ," she repeats. "Yes, I'm sure that's why your grades are suffering."

"Oh, of course. Can't eat, can't sleep, can't do essays. My worry more effects the last one the most, you know—essays remind me of you because you love them, y'know."

"Well, apologize to your professors for me," Hermione says. She can't tamper the grin down on her face, and she's not sure why she's trying. She's happy. Fred is happy. Fred deserves to be happy. She thinks maybe that she deserves to be happy, too.

"Can we get to what's been going on now?"

She grimaces. There goes that happiness. "I suppose…"

Fred squeezes her in his arms. "Just tell me enough, 'Mine. Tell me the need-to-know."

"If you don't mind, I'll tell you everything because I'd quite like someone to know, but I need a promise from you."

"Anything."

"You're not allowed to tell George. Or anyone else, but I think you understand that if you're not even allowed to tell George. I'm not meant to tell anyone, but I think I need to."

Fred frowns at her, looking more concerned than just a moment ago. "Alright."

"It started at the end of last school year. We had to choose our subjects and I couldn't choose between them," she explains. "I approached Professor McGonagall with a request to take all of them. I had no idea what I'd like or dislike, and I still don't know what career I want to go in to. Taking every class was the only way to keep  _every single_  option open.

"She obviously said no, there isn't any way that can be done. All of the classes are arranged in blocks, and I wouldn't be able to attend multiple in one block. I brought up the idea of private lessons, or learning on my own and being able to approach the professors with any questions and still taking the exams at the end of the year. She said that wouldn't do. I asked what it would take, and I supposed that'd when she realized I was really serious about it.

"She asked me a lot of questions. Why I wanted to take the classes, what I wanted to get from each class, how this would be beneficial to me, if I'd be able to handle it. There were more, but those were the ones she was truly concerned about. She brought in Professor Dumbledore, he asked me more questions. They determined I was in a good state of mind and had good intent, and so Professor McGonagall started writing the Ministry. We went home, but she and I kept in contact all summer. Mid-August the Ministry officially issued a time-turner to me, and I picked it up before the feast—that's part of why I missed the Sorting.

"Then classes started. I had a good schedule going—you're not  _supposed_  to go back to the same time twice, but because I had knowledge that my future self would be coming back to this time twice, it was much less risky. The problem there was I could not have someone else see two of me at once. So as the term went on I'd disappear because I'd forget who had and hadn't seen me and where I'd been. And then—I was adding nearly ten hours on to some of my days. Eight hours of sleep never seemed like enough but if I slept more I'd lose more time and I was— _am_ —already very short on that.

"When everything with Scabbers escalated Ron was looking for every opportunity to blame me. Honestly, I didn't know where Crookshanks was most of the time—I was doing work, and he lets me know whenever he needs something. After that they were angry with me about the Firebolt, and then Crookshanks again. I had been spending less time with you and Alicia and more with Harry and Ron because I was trying to make it up to them and I knew they were most likely to follow me to figure out what was going on. I couldn't risk that. So it started to feel like everyone was against me.

"And then we fought. Or I fought you—I don't really know. I was  _awful_  to you when you were just trying to help. But I was having a terrible time keeping up in my classes and I know you didn't mean it to be, but it felt accusatory. Like you thought I couldn't do it.  _I_  was starting to think I couldn't do it, so hearing  _you_  say it… to hear it out loud. I didn't want to admit it to myself. Everything after that just snowballed. It  _really_  felt like everyone was against me. I didn't have you and George, and I didn't have Alicia and Ange and Katie—at least not when I needed them. Ginny was my only friend for a while and Harry—"

"No," Fred interrupts. He shakes his head. "I'm sorry, I was going to let you get through everything but  _no_. George and I have never stopped being your friends, and neither did Alicia, Angelina, and Katie. They were trying to give you your space. You'd been so stressed that they trusted you'd come to them if you needed."

"That's what Ginny said. I don't deserve that. I don't deserve them. I don't deserve  _you_."

"Well," Fred says, "I guess this is it. You've officially gone mad. Completely bonkers, really."

"What?"

"If anyone here isn't deserved it's you. Yeah, it's utterly frustrating when you shut yourself off, but I also knew that entire time we weren't speaking that if I had a question, even the most unnecessary question, I could have asked and you would have answered. I know you would have dropped everything, for every one of your classes to help me if I had been upset or needing you. I know you, 'Mine, and I know you're a better person than I could ever hope to be."

"You're—"

"If you're about to compliment me, don't. It's been weeks and I left you all alone just because you were overwhelmed and I didn't like it."

"That is  _not_  what happened!" Hermione argues. "As I recall I yelled at you and—"

"Because you were overwhelmed."

"That's no excuse! It's not right for me to yell at you because  _I_  had too much going on!"

Fred's quiet for a moment. When he speaks again, he grabs on to her hand and squeezes. "I'm glad you did." She's about to argue some more when he squeezes her hand harder. "You weren't… that wasn't you. And I knew that. Someone else might not have."

"How can you be glad? I was awful to you!"

"I can be glad because you needed to do that, maybe. You lost the plot. That was okay. If you had yelled at Harry or Ron that way, who is to say you'd ever reconcile that friendship?" he asks. "There's no way you're driving me away from you, even if I need to pout for a few weeks."

"You weren't pout—"

"Oh, I was," Fred says. He pokes her side and she yelps in surprise and slides off of his lap and on to the stone floor. As he laughs at her, he explains, "George and Lee wouldn't stop poking fun about it. I've been told to stop pouting every day for almost three months now."

"Oh. Has it really been three months?"

"It really has been," he says.

"I don't know how I've been making my days longer and yet time still seems to be going by so slow."

He smirks down at her. "Life is less interesting when you don't have me pestering you."

"You know? I think you're right."

He beams, and then—"Tell me," he says. "Did you really slap Malfoy?"

" _Oh_ ," Hermione whines. "I can't  _believe_  I did that!" There's no doubting that Malfoy was a horrible human being, but before that day, Hermione never could have fathomed wanting to physically harm someone.

"I'm so proud."

"How did you even find out?"

He curls an arm around her—a feeling she has desperately missed—and pulls her in to his side. "You didn't show up for lunch. Alicia asked Ron and Harry if they knew where you were and they told us all about your moment of glory."

Hermione feels her face heat. "I can't imagine what he's going to do to me. He's gotten Buckbeak on death row because he couldn't follow Hagrid's instructions—now I've gone and attacked him!"

"I don't think that will be an issue. He walked by the table and Harry looked at him and his face went even redder than yours is right now," he laughs as he tilts her face up with a knuckle under her chin. "There's no way Malfoy could have been hit by a  _girl_ , now could he?"

"But I still—"

"You still have to get to dinner. Some people have been missing you."

Hermione looks up at him and smiles. He smiles back at her, a presses his lips gently to the edge of her hair. Pulling her tight into his side for a hug, he makes her feel more comfortable than she has yet this entire term. She's thankful for him, more than anything else right now. That's why she stands up with him and follows him without an ounce of hesitation; she won't lose him again, not after she's experienced these past months without him. Not after she's been reminded that he is her safety, and her home, and a large part of her happiness.

*\

Over the next few weeks, things return to normal. She begins hopping back and forth between her friend groups at meals (usually with a book propped up behind her plate), Alicia, Katie, and Fred join her back in the library, and Harry and Ron started poking fun at her study tables again since they are no longer scared of her snapping at them. She still thinks at times that this isn't right—they shouldn't have been so quick to forgive her, to accept her back. Other times, she thinks that this proves they love her just as she loves them, because she knows she'd always welcome them back, no matter their mistakes.

She thinks on this whilst she stares out at the Hogwarts grounds as a storm rolls in. It's nearly the end of Easter holidays and she's gotten as far ahead in her course work as possible.

"I didn't think I'd see your nose out of a book for the rest of term," Fred's voice shatters through the silence from behind her.

Her eyes stay locked on the sky. "Around twenty minutes ago I stopped comprehending anything I read. I made the decision to take a break and come back to it later, because I was getting nothing done."

"And you're sitting out in the storm instead of resting, why?"

"It's pretty," she says. "The colors are beautiful, aren't they?"

Fred sits next to her and considers the fields, the sky, the colors all around. "Yeah, I suppose so. I'm more partial to summer days."

"I like the storms, everything about them. The colors they turn everything, the silence that comes before, and all the rest that they bring with them. Thunder scares some people but it used to put me to sleep. Now I like studying to the sound of it."

"I never knew that."

Hermione smiles. "Believe it or not, Fred, there  _are_  some things you still don't know."

"I'll know them all one day," he says, and she believes him. He moves closer to her so their arms are pressing together. "Tell me more."

She peers up at him. In the lighting of the storm, he's not overstated like usual—his red hair isn't glaring at her, his freckles aren't jumping out, though his eyes are bright, as always. She wonders what he'd look like on a summer day. She's not sure what there is to say, but she starts talking anyways, and starts thinking that it's just as nice to watch him as the storm.

*\

They've won the Cup.

They've won the Cup and Hermione has to hold on to Ron's shoulder as they crowd on to the pitch just to remain standing. She clutches at his robes to make sure she stays with him. Everyone wants to thank Harry, and she doesn't think there's a chance that they'll reach him. After several minutes of getting shoved between bodies however, they break through the masses and are able to hug their friend to congratulate him. There's no words, really, but she doesn't think there needs to be as she watches Harry hoist the Cup above his head.

There is more screaming behind her, and with no warning she's grabbed around the waist and pulled in to a pile of bodies. She screams when the maroon robes first surround her and then begins to laugh as she hears everyone's voices cry out around her, " _we've won the Cup! 'Mione, we've won the_ _ **bloody Cup!**_ "

She hugs each of her friends from the team and cheers with them. Cheers for them. She's happy, and she's proud, and she feels like someone has cast a feather light charm on her and Alicia's hug is the only thing keeping her grounded.

"I'm so glad you're here," Alicia cries.

Hermione holds on to her friend and smiles. Thinks that maybe she's keeping Alicia grounded just as much, if not more, than she is Hermione. And honestly? "I wouldn't have missed it for the absolute world."

*\

With the Quidditch season over, everyone kicks in to study mode for their final exams. Hermione rarely finds herself outside the library. She also rarely finds herself alone in the library. Angelina, Katie, Alicia, and Lee (sometimes) are with her while she studies, though Fred and George are hard to find.

When she does find them in the common room one afternoon, they're playing a game of chess. She frowns at the scene. "You're… you're seriously not studying for your O.W.L.s?"

George frowns at her. "What use do we have for those?"

"Well—your products are all dependent on potions, charms… your knowledge on the subjects."

"We do better learning on our own," Fred smirks.

"Yes," Hermione agrees, because they did. They're brilliant and can learn what ever they like, how ever they like,  _when_  ever they like. She doesn't think there's much around to limit them. "But all the same, the classes can't  _hurt_ …"

"They hurt our very beings, 'Mine," Fred tells her.

"Our souls," George nods.

Hermione rolls her eyes. "But imagine what you might be able to gain from advanced level classes! Sure, you can read about them, but you won't get any hands on experience. You can't tell me you've never needed help from a professor at least  _once_."

George shrugs. "We usually ask Angelina or you."

"I'm not going to be in N.E.W.T. level classes, and what if Ange doesn't get the same O.W.L.s as you want to study? She doesn't care much for herbology or theory…"

"Look," Fred says, "no one expects us to do well, right? So we might as well not do well and save ourselves from trying. We'd rather spend our time working on our projects than studying anyway."

There's the expectation talk, once again. She thought she had understood his hesitance when he'd brought it up before, but now she can't. " _I_  expect you to do very well because I know you  _can_ ," Hermione snaps. "But as I can see, I clearly don't matter—"

"Oh, c'mon, 'Mine," Fred huffs. "We don't belong in N.E.W.T. level classes. It'd be easier to just follow what's expected, hmm?"

"Then you're just feeding in to what they're assuming! I'm in my  _third year_  and I'm already expected to do exceptionally well on mine. What if I don't?"

"That'd never happen," George rolls his eyes.

"You're going to have more O.W.L.s than Percy."

Hermione growls. "You two are imbeciles. Expectations and—and  _school marks_  don't make us who we are. If I get no O.W.L.s I'd still be Hermione. Yes, alright, I'd be crushed and hate myself, but I would still be my normal self, correcting you two about something at least three times a day, and reading  _Hogwarts: A History_  for leisure. If you get ten, you'll still be your normal trouble-making selves who turn in half-arsed assignments and terrorize the students and teachers of Hogwarts. You'd just have more experience in the field you're going in to, because I won't touch a bloody product of yours if you don't at least try to continue classes for the subjects you need," she tells them. "Honestly, you two are the  _last_  people I'd expect to go along with any expectations people have of you! I'd always expect you'd want to break them and prove everyone wrong."

"So… if we do get O.W.L.s…" Fred begins.

"… you'll use product from us?  _Joke_  product?" George finishes.

"That  _is_  what you're saying, is it not?"

"Oh—bloody—that is what you've taken away from what I've said? Oh— _yes_ , alright? If you take N.E.W.T. levels for potions, herbology, charms, and theory at the least, I'll use your stupid product." Hermione huffs.

Fred smiles. "George, her language is getting bad. You reckon she's angry with us?"

Hermione rolls her eyes and cuts in before George can respond. "You should hear what I say in my head. Study. I'll be in the library after class if you want to join."

*\

"Do not tell me it's bloody true," Fred says as he sits beside Hermione at breakfast. "Do not tell me that you almost got a Dementor's Kiss because you went after Black with Harry."

Hermione frowns. "How did you…?"

"I heard Ron talking about it with Harry. Are you  _mad_ , Hermione? Why—I can't believe you! 'No, Fred, I won't do anything stupid! No, Fred, you don't have to worry!' That's the last time I'll trust those bloody words coming out of your mouth."

"You don't even know the full story!" she argues.

"Did you or did you not go after Black?"

"Not technic—"

" _Did you_  or  _did you not_ —"

"Fred!" Hermione shouts. She looks around and sees a group of first years staring at them with wide eyes. "I can't talk to you about this right now. Not here."

He huffs. They hold eye contact for a long moment before he turns in his chair with his shoulders still tense. "I want a full explanation by the end of the day."

Hermione reaches over and places her hand on his forearm. His shoulders begin to relax. "I'm safe. I didn't do anything that wasn't needed."

"'Mine, I need to know you'll be safe. I  _can't_  deal with that again."

"I promise I'll do my best to be safe. Please know that's all I can promise, Fred. Harry's one of my best friends and if he's in danger I'm not going to leave him without help."

"I know. And I don't want to stop you from helping him. Just don't rush in without a thought, and don't risk it all for a battle that isn't yours."

Hermione smiles and squeezes his arm. "This battle is mine. This battle is my friend's, so this battle is mine."

Fred doesn't say anything. He doesn't nod, he doesn't look at her. She thinks it's his stubborn acceptance—he won't argue her point, but he won't like or support it either. For now, this is enough.

*\

The ride home is chaotic. Alicia insists that the entire group sit together, but there was hardly enough room in a cabin. Ginny frowns at the overflowing cabin and says that she'll sit with her other friends. Even without her, Hermione is still left sitting in Alicia's lap, and Lee is stretched out across the floor of the cabin. Ron is grumbling about how Hermione had told her other friends about Black, but she knows that she can trust everyone in this cabin with her life—even Lee, which is something she is still surprised about. Lee, while not being extremely close with Hermione, still had hugged her tight after he had heard about her run in with the dementors.

It's comforting to be around her friends like this. Even as Fred and George whine about how Ron has been gifted an owl by a fugitive, even while Lee pesters Angelina about how much she thinks she'll be writing to him this summer, even during their good byes, she thinks that she's never going to be able to put this feeling in to words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter kept feeling rushed, but it's really hard to focus on a group of friends when said group of friends isn't interacting. Hopefully it still went over well. 
> 
> Next chapter should be out in 2-3 weeks. Goblet of Fire is my second favorite book in the series and I really liked being able to explore so much with all of Hermione's friendships in that book, so I'll see y'all with that in a few weeks!


	4. i see you from a different point of view

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Want a jam tart, ‘Mine?” Fred asks as they celebrate Harry’s successful completion of the first task (and Hermione celebrates Harry and Ron making up).  
> Hermione glances at the platter and picks one up. “You know if these are hexed I’ll jinx all your hair off your head?” She takes a bite, holding steady, threatening eye contact with him.  
> Fred’s grin falters. “I’m glad I didn’t offer you a cream puff.”  
> Across the room, Neville stops chewing his cream puff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re getting in to slightly bigger changes as the chapters go (some will still be small, some will alter entire plot points, some will be a big change when you read it but not really impact much further). Some changes will be based on theories, some on things JKR has said, some on head canons, some on the way all of the characters develop, and so on and so forth. Each one WILL have a reason, so any questions you have I’d be more than happy to answer. 
> 
> I’d just like to also add that because this is Hermione, who reads all the time, she has read books on the First Wizarding War. I create a lot that I believe would have been in this war, and she references some of these things for the first time in this chapter. I do not go in to these graphically, so it’s still along canon-typical violence, it’s just a more in depth look than Harry got because he only heard what others were willing to tell him and if anything wasn’t relevant to what was happening then, it wasn’t brought up.

_**** _

_art work by[citrusorgans](https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrusorgans)_

_**book iv.** _

_Fred and George,_

_I always seem to forget how dreary muggle life is. Please don't get me wrong, it's not horrid; we have electricity (therefore television and film), we have plenty of academic content that I'm able to catch up on (remind me next time I want to study muggle academia to stay away from geometry), and of course I'm with my parents. I miss magic. I miss learning new things, being amazed by the world around me. I miss my friends. I don't even have France to distract me this summer._

_Mum and dad have written up an explanation on root canals for you, along with pictures, diagrams, stories about necrosis and more. I think they're hoping you'll be inspired. They aren't entirely happy about the fact that no wizarding form of dentistry exists. They also aren't comfortable with magical healing. They believe there has to be some limitations. Yes, I've told them that Harry has literally regrown bones and had concussions healed in minutes, but they refuse to believe that it is limitless. I might, too. There must be limits; I just haven't encountered them yet. I'm sure that Pomfrey would be able to tell me. Remind me to ask her once we're back at Hogwarts._

_Alicia, Ange, Katie, and I are planning a day in Diagon Alley soon. If you'd be interested in joining, contact Ange and she will send Clement with the day and time. Taupe is almost as slow as Errol from what I'm told. She's the cheapest owl for the summer as all of the faster and affordable owls had already been rented by the time I'd gotten there. She's still absolutely beautiful though, isn't she?_

_I do hope your summer is going well? Have you made any progress with your potions or spells? The last potion I remember you showing me was to induce vomiting? How has that progressed?_

_Love from_

_Hermione_

*\

_'Mine,_

_Why does anyone_

_How does_

_Is there a reason people choose_

_I don't understand why anyone would choose to be a dentistry. Your parents are infinitely more terrifying than a death eater. Hell, they could probably defeat several death eaters with their… tools…_

_George regrets asking as well. He keeps walking around and holding the sides of his face. He looked at the 'necrotic tissue' and put his fingers in his mouth and felt all of his teeth. Sometimes he used to forget to brush his teeth at night. For the past two days he hasn't forgotten once. I think our toothpaste must be different (muggles do use toothpaste, don't they?), or maybe Mungo's really does have healers that fix teeth? We're not in a rush to meet those healers._

_Mum hasn't stocked up on floo powder in a few weeks, which means we won't be able to make it to Diagon Alley. It sounds like Lee will be meeting you lovely ladies there according to Ange's letter, so you can't talk too terribly about us lads._

_We finished the potion along with others and the antidote to each one. Our vomiting potion was pretty nasty before we figured out the antidote. George almost ended up having to go to Mungo's because he was vomiting every ten minutes. When we tested the antidote, it moved to every five minutes. Thankfully, he didn't take much, so it wore off after about an hour. We added some Boom Berry and heated it twice as long as before and it worked like magic! (I'll assume you've laughed, here.) We've also created a tongue-swelling potion (and its antidote) and a potion that creates a fever (and its antidote). We'll tell you more when we see you next. Yes, we do have plans to use these to skive off class this year._

_Now, we can get to the burning question. What is geometry? Sounds like a form of dark magic. Don't become a dark witch, 'Mine. The wizarding world would be doomed if it were ever up against you._

_We miss you dearly, 'Mine. Stay safe._

_Yours,_

_Fred_

_(and George)_

*\

_Fred and George,_

_Geometry might as well be dark magic. It's the study of figures—like circles, spheres, and everything else. It is absolutely frustrating. I wonder if it would have been easier had I continued at muggle school learning maths the same as they did, but I did not. Now I'm betrayed by my own drive to learn as much as possible._

_My parents are_ _dentists_ _. Dentistry is the practice. They said they like making people smile, if that means anything about why they chose their profession. Sounds similar to why you two want to open a joke shop, doesn't it? George, this is your own fault. My parents made those documents for you because you asked. I'm glad to hear it has helped with your hygiene at least._

_I got more books at Diagon Alley! I doubt either of you are surprised, but I found a few that I think you'd enjoy. One is on obscure potion ingredients. I will let you borrow it but I do_ _not_ _want you using these ingredients until you've graduated Hogwarts. But perhaps you'll be able to ask instructors about them now, or start researching them so you know how to prevent mishaps with them in the future. Do not think I won't write your mother if you use these ingredients before you are ready for them._

_You WILL NOT use your potions to get out of class! See above paragraph as to why. You two are brilliant but you're still only sixteen! If you do not attend your NEWT classes, our deal is off and I will never use your product. (Speaking of? How'd you do on your OWLs? Results should be coming back around now, shouldn't they?) I am proud of you both for making those potions so successfully! I'd love to hear the make-up of them all if you don't mind._

_I miss you as well._

_Love from_

_Hermione_

*\

_'Mione,_

_We listened to you and we only half regret it. Mum is over the moon. Tests are our strong point, at least. If O.W.L.s were essays we had to do out of class, we'd lose them by the end of the day (and we also probably wouldn't do them, even if we didn't). We regret it though because now there are those pesky expectations. Do you know what trouble you've caused for us, Granger? McGonagall sent us the N.E.W.T. course book and highlighted the ones she wants us to take! There were six. SIX, Hermione! Potions, DADA, Herbology, Transfiguration, Charms, and Magical Theory. She also "recommends" Care of Magical Creatures even though we only got an Acceptable. Apparently there's also Alchemy and Spell Theory classes she wants us to take. This is why we didn't go in for career advising last year. She's mad with power, that woman. She can't honestly believe we'd go for this? That's too many classes and too much work._

_Unfortunately once Mum heard, we had to go for it._

_We're not taking Care of Magical Creatures or Alchemy, but we did add spell theory. Fred wants to show off what he knows. We TRIED to get out of Potions with Snape, but that was our highest mark apart from Charms and Minnie wouldn't hear of it when we told her. We just got an owl back that said 'I will personally sign you up for Potions if I find you have not at the start of next term. I expect to hear Severus complain about the two of you at every dinner.' We haven't figured out if that's a threat to make sure we make it to classes or encouragement to keep tormenting Snape. We're choosing to believe the second one as that makes us feel better about ourselves and makes taking potions seem worthwhile._

_Right, we won't use our potions to get out of class (too often), but we will switch out our vials for Snape so he ends up with a vomiting attack (completely safe for him unfortunately, don't worry, it only lasts for an hour or so like we said)._

_Low blow, saying you'll contact Mum. Wouldn't it be safer for us to experiment with rare potion ingredients at Hogwarts where there are professors who can help us if we muck it up?_

_Cheers,_

_George_

*\

_Please don't mind how wild Pig is, but we had to get an owl to you quick._

_WE'RE GOING TO THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP AND MUM DEMANDS YOU GO IN HER PLACE. WE'RE LEAVING EARLY MONDAY MORNING, YOU HAVE FIVE DAYS TO GET HERE, SHE SAYS YOU'RE WELCOME AT ANY TIME. GEORGE AND I HAVE LOADS OF THINGS TO SHOW YOU SO WE EXPECT YOU BY AT LEAST SUNDAY MORNING. DO NOT DISAPPOINT, WE GOT O.W.L.S FOR YOU, YOU CAN ARRIVE A DAY EARLY._

_As you'll be here within a matter of days, go ahead and send Taupe back to the office, save us all a few knuts in the process. Give her a nice treat before she heads back, she deserves it._

_Send Pig back quick with your estimated arrival._

_START PACKING._

_Hurry up,_

_Fred_

*\

_Fred,_

_I'll be there Saturday afternoon, expect me by floo around 1 pm._

_My parents have agreed to let me stay at the Burrow for the remainder of the summer as well. Be seeing you!_

_Yours,_

_Hermione_

*\

At 12:58 on Saturday, Hermione clings tightly to her parents. "I love you," she says.

"We love you, too," her mum answers. She smooths down her daughter's hair and kisses her forehead. "Write us when you get back from the Kwenditch Cup—"

" _Quidditch_ , Mum," Hermione corrects.

Her dad laughs. "We've no idea about the things in your world unless you tell us about it, Hermione. I don't recall you ever mentioning Quidditch."

"Oh, either way!" her mum says. "Write us when you're back at their home, and once you get to Hogwarts, okay?"

"Of course." She looks at the clock. It's exactly 1 pm. "Well, I'll be going now. I love you."

"Love you, too, 'Mione," her dad says. Her mum echoes it.

She takes a handful of floo powder that McGonagall had generously gifted her and steps into her fireplace, dragging her trunk with her. Crookshanks jumps on to her shoulder from where he stood outside the fireplace, and she gives her parents one last smile before throwing the powder down and yelling " _the Burrow!_ "

She stumbles out into the Weasley's kitchen moments later. Crookshanks meows and leaps from her shoulder, walking out of the abode through the open backdoor. She places her trunk on the floor and looks around. From outside she hears, "is that Crookshanks?  _Hermione!_ "

Before she has the chance to call out, a head full of red hair flies through the door and at Hermione. As she wraps her arms around the figure, she recognizes it as Ginny. Hermione laughs and hugs her friend tight.

As they stand at the opening of the fireplace hugging, more red heads file in to the room. Hermione locates the twins first, and then Ron, and then studies the two new men she doesn't know quite yet. They look vaguely familiar. Hermione is sure she's seen pictures of them, but she can't name which one is Charlie and which one is Bill. At least, not until she sees the earring hanging from an ear and recalls George toasting after Christmas holidays to Bill's new earring which 'made Mum go bollocks.'

"I'm so glad you've made it," Ginny says into Hermione's shoulder, and then steps back. "It's good to have a friend here now instead of just my annoying brothers."

" _We're_  annoying?" Charlie says. "'Charlie, come play Quidditch! Charlie, tell me more about the dragons! Charlie, want to prank the twins?'"

" _Oi!_ " Fred and George exclaim. "It took us three hours to catch those vials!"

Charlie looks at them. "It was Ginny."

The four of them begin bickering, and Hermione takes her opportunity to greet Ron. She gives him a hug while he gives her a pat on the back. "It's good to see you, Ron. How's your leg doing?"

"Completely healed up," he says. "They needed to wait to make sure it wasn't poisoned or cursed before they closed the wounds up for good, but now there's no trace left."

"Just like magic," Hermione grins.

"I hear you over there using  _my_  joke, Granger!"

"It's my joke now, Weasley!" she calls back without turning around.

She feels smug, but that only lasts a moment before her feet are yanked from the ground. A scream tears out of her throat. From right beside her ear, she hears Fred laughing and feels his breath warm on her jaw. "No, it's mine, 'Mine."

"Put me  _down!_ " Hermione cries, struggling in his arms to break his hold. Her chest feels odd as he lifts her higher. It's no wonder she doesn't like riding a broom if she can't even manage to be two feet of the ground without her heart throwing a fit.

"You're mine now," he says, mimicking her.

"I've been 'Mine since first year, you prat!"

Her feet touch the ground, but the arm around her waist doesn't disappear. "Hmm," Fred hums, "suppose that's true." He releases her short after that and immediately twists her around to gather her in a hug. She sinks in to it easily and feels—well. Comfortable. Safe. Everything that she'd come to associate with Fred in the last few months.

What makes it better is that those feelings don't fade when Fred releases her; they just aren't trying to claw their way out of her veins anymore.

It's another few minutes while she says hi to George and properly meets Charlie and Bill, but then Ginny is calling her name.

"C'mon," Ginny beckons. "I'll show you where we're sleeping."

"I've got your trunk," Fred says, grabbing said trunk and following behind, George only a few steps back. Ron looks at Hermione and gets up to join them.

Ginny brings her to a small room with one twin bed and an air mattress. Fred places her trunk next to the bed while Ron and George wait by the door. Hermione looks at them and George grins. "Are you ready to see our wonderful inventions, 'Mione?"

Hermione perks up. "Do you have any of the potions ready?"

"Even better," Fred says.

"We've got a finished product," George says.

Hermione gasps, unable to contain her excitement, and she sees Ron look between her and the twins confusedly out of the corner of her eye. She ignores that, and the five of them climb yet another flight of stairs to the room that Ron and the twins are sharing. Fred and George rush ahead and by the time Hermione, Ron, and Ginny arrive, the twins are holding handfuls of what look to be sweets.

"These are what we've been telling you about," Fred grins. He holds up a red and orange sweet. Hermione can see Ginny rolling her eyes with a large smile on her face. "Fancy one?"

Hermione snorts. "No?"

"Fair enough," George says, just as Fred bites off one end of it. Within moments, he starts sweating and taking on a sickly appearance. Fred reaches for her hand and places the back of it to his forehead. She gasps at the heat coming from his skin. He smiles at her, holds her hand there, and then pops the remainder of the sweet in his mouth. The heat fades as quickly as his sweating had come on until he's back to a reasonable temperature.

"Incredible!" she says. He brings her hand down and releases her wrist. Her skin feels like it's crawling. She'll have to bring this up to Fred and George later to see if it could be some sort of side effect from touching the effected individual.

The twins beam at her. George turns to his sister. "Did y'hear that, Gin, Ron? 'Mione thinks we're incredible."

"Bet she'd never betray us with Charlie," Fred adds.

"Bet she's never been an unknown test subject for your pranks, either," Ginny quips back.

"Not yet," Fred says. Hermione narrows her eyes. "And she also never will be."

"Ever," George says when she turns her glare on to him.

Ginny huffs. "I'm just as scary as Hermione!"

"Are you?" Fred asks.

George motions to Hermione. "You have heard about all of Hermione's adventures around the castle to save your little crush, haven't you?"

Ginny's cheeks flare red. "I have, yes, and I can still bat boogey you better than she can!"

"Not today, little sister," George teases. "Not outside of Hogwarts you can't!"

"The Ministry would never know it was me. Mum, Dad, Bill, Charlie,  _and_  Percy are here, they wouldn't have a clue."

Fred looks at George, who is not smiling anymore. "Right," Fred says. "You're scary. If you'd like to bat boogey someone, I hear Ron is quite skilled at projectile vomiting them. Would be quite a show."

" _Hey!_ " Ron cries. "Maybe that goes to show  _my_  skill with a bat boogey hex!"

The room falls in to laughter, and delves deeper and deeper as Ron and Ginny discuss the terms of a bat-boogey-hex-off once they get back to school. Hermione doesn't have a clue as to whether they're serious or not, so she makes a mental note to stay away from the both of them for the first week.

*\

"We're eating out in the garden. There's just not room for eleven people in here," Molly says. "Could you take the plates outside, girls? Bill and Charlie are setting up the tables. Knives and forks, please, you two," she points at Ron and Harry, and then turns to the potatoes. Ginny and Hermione are gathering up the plates and dishes when the potatoes fly from their skins. "Oh, for heaven's sake, those two!" She grumbles, and both Ginny and Hermione hurry from the room. Behind them, they can hear Molly ranting, "I don't know what's going to happen to them, I really don't! No ambition," she says, and then they're too far away to hear how she ends her sentence.

"She just gets upset sometimes," Ginny mumbles, sensing Hermione's annoyance. "She wants a better life for us than… this. She thinks the Ministry is the best route, reckons Fred and George could be successful almost anywhere, they just don't want to be."

"Life can't get much better than  _this_ ," Hermione argues. "I mean… I do understand you're short on money, really, but you've got each other. The Burrow. All of that is magic in itself, isn't it?"

"It is until you get your tenth set of hand-me-down trousers that are clearly modified from men's size to yours," Ginny says. She pauses, a contemplative look on her face. "It is great, and I am thankful. We all are. Merlin knows we have a better life than someone like Malfoy who has heaps of money. And I don't disagree with what the twins want to do. Mum can over react, she has her beliefs and thoughts and she stands by them until she has reason not to…"

"I just don't like that it's her belief that there's something  _wrong_  with them—I've heard her ask them, 'where did I go wrong with you two?' I don't particularly like what they do, but they're  _good_  at it and it makes people happy. They're cruel to Percy and I wish they'd stop, yes, but so are you and all of your other brothers—it's not just them—and Fred still looks up to Percy and admires him…" She shakes her head. "They're not the perfect role models, or best students, but they're some of the most ambitious and dedicated people any of us know. Just because she would have used that ambition on something different doesn't mean they're wrong. Fred and George always try to brush her comments off but it takes a toll on them when they're constantly told that they're going to fail or hear that there's something wrong with them. They said they didn't care about their O.W.L.s because no one expected them to do well. If they cared to, that could have gotten straight O's. I practically  _begged_  them to work for the O's they did get, because they wanted to just blow off the tests because no one cares! How does no one expect boys that smart to do well? Why does your mum think she did something wrong with the two most ambitious people in your household?"

They've reached the tables by now, and stand off to the side watching them magic the tables around in the air. Ginny stares at her. Hermione draws in a deep breath and stares at Fred, and then George. "You think—you feel very strongly about this."

"Yes," Hermione confirms. "When they're talking, they say 'expectations' the same way I say 'know-it-all.' It's been used against them. It's been used to belittle them. People have made up their mind about them, and it hurts them, but they don't do anything about it because they've been burned before."

Ginny is silent for a short time again. "Thank you. For believing in them. I didn't realize how hard it was on them because they never both to take a moment to be serious."

"I think I only know because Fred is my best friend. I don't think they ever wanted you to know." She looks back at the house. "And I don't mean to judge your mother. I just wish—"

"Yeah," Ginny agrees, as they watch George rush over to Charlie and whisper in his ear. Charlie shouts out a new spell and the table stands straight up on two legs and uses the other two as arms. It begins dancing like a human, and Bill calls over to Fred to back him up and give him a better spell. Hermione doesn't even notice her arms starting to hurt from the weight of the plates, all too happy to watch the two oldest Weasleys make the magic that Fred and George created.

*\

"Dad? What's going on?" Charlie calls. "Fred, George, and Ginny got back okay, but the others—"

"I've got them here," Mr. Weasley says. Hermione can see Charlie exhale in relief as they draw nearer. Charlie ducks back in the tent, and the four of them follow after.

Hermione's eyes automatically find the twins and Ginny and she feels her world right itself. All of them look quite shaken up, and Fred is clenching Ginny's hand in his, as if he's scared to let her go. Ginny's knuckles are white, so Hermione assumes that she's having a similar feeling as Fred. George looks spooked, but relieved that it seems to be over. When Fred's eyes land on Hermione, his clutch on Ginny loosens and his shoulders slump.

He starts to move towards her. Just as he stands, however, Mr. Weasley answers a question that Hermione hadn't happened to hear. "No, we found Barty Crouch's elf holding Harry's wand, but we're none the wiser about who actually conjured the mark."

" _What?_ " the three oldest Weasley siblings yelped while Fred narrows his eyes and asks, " _Harry's wand?_ "

" _Mr. Crouch's_  elf?" Percy says.

"Yes," Mr. Weasley says. Together, he, Harry, Ron, and Hermione recount what happened in the forest. While they're talking, Fred's eyes don't leave Hermione's face for more than a moment.

They talk for another several minutes before Mr. Weasley cuts conversation off. There's a pause before he looks at Hermione and Ginny. "Forget your tent, we're all staying in here tonight. Bill, you and I can sleep on the floor."

Hermione shakes her head, "Mr. Weasley, no, I can—"

"No, no, Hermione! No point in arguing, what I say goes. Besides, do you think I'd fancy losing my head if Molly found out I let you sleep on the ground?"

That's a valid point Hermione realizes, and instead of trying to argue further, she thanks him.

Once everyone is finished preparing for bed Hermione is led to the bedroom. Bill points her towards the bottom bunk of one. Fred is settling in the top bunk. When she reaches the bed, he leans over and looks at her. His face is mere centimeters from hers. His chin bumps in to her forehead as he grips the back of her head and drags her towards his mattress for one of the most awkward hugs Hermione has ever experienced, yet also most comforting.

"I'm glad you're safe," Fred says.

"Me too," Hermione says. She pulls away from his hold so she can see his face. "I mean—glad  _you're_  safe. You and George and Ginny. And, well. Your entire family. I'm glad."

"Yeah, me too." There's a long pause while they stare at each other. "Sleep well, yeah?"

Hermione nods and tells him the same. He presses a light kiss to her hairline that causes her stomach to flip. She lies down in her bed. The mattress above her shifts underneath his weight and she thinks about what would happen if she were to magic it away. Fred would fall to Hermione, and she'd find herself safe once more, despite the terrors they'd just faced. She longs for the hold of safety, but knows that it has to wait. She turns on her side to face away from the candlelight and closes her eyes.

*\

"What in Merlin's name were they talking about?" Fred demands, staring at the Hogwarts Express platform where his mum and two oldest brothers stood only moments ago. The train pulls them further and further away until he's staring out a window at the scenic mountains.

"Are you expecting us to have the answer?" Hermione asks, quirking a brow at him. Her turns a playful glare on her and she smirks. "Guess my patience does come in hand sometimes.  _I'm_  more than happy to wait and find out when we get to Hogwarts."

"Last year you cried because someone checked out a charms book you wanted to read and you had to wait for it," George says.

Hermione turns to glare at him. "Last year was a very difficult year and I ask everyone here to forget everything I did."

"I am never forgetting you punching Malfoy," Harry says.

Ron grins. "Me either. Not even an obliviate could erase that."

"Before Hermione argues that statement," Fred cuts in before Hermione can even open her mouth, "'Mine, are you sitting with us or them?"

"I'll sit with Harry and Ron. Tell everyone I'll see them at the feast?"

George shrugs. "It's your head when the girls come to find you."

"Try and hold them off, will you?" Hermione pleads. "We'll have all feast to talk."

George shrugs. "We'll try but I'm not risking my bollocks if they try and resist."

"We'll do our best," Fred says. He puts a hand on her shoulder and squeezes. "Find us at the feast. You may have gotten out of it last year, but there's no way you're avoiding the sorting this year."

"Tell Ange I'd like my trophy to be shining by the time I get it back, would you?" With a smile on her face and a flutter in her chest, she turns and walks down the compartment, motioning for Harry and Ron to follow and leaving Fred and George's protests down the train.

*\

"Ha!" George exclaims. "I told you we'd keep you from cheating this year!"

Fred reaches for the trophy, grinning evilly at Hermione. "It must feel horrible, 'Mine, to be beaten so horribly—"

"George beat her by a point and a half," Katie says, reading the parchment over Angelina's shoulder.

Fred holds up a hand at Katie, silencing her. "— _so horribly_ , by us."

"By  _me_ ," George scoffs, and snatches the trophy before Fred can.

Fred blinks. He looks at where the trophy was, and then to his twin. " _Gred_."

"You lost to Hermione by  _four points!_ You don't deserve this!"

Fred looks at Hermione. He looks at Ron, at Alicia, at Lee, at Ginny. He looks back at George. "You've betrayed me."

"You betrayed yourself."

"I don't know," Hermione says, "George obviously must have cheated, right Fred?"

"Obviously," he agrees quickly. "Ange, I'd like to file a formal complaint."

Angelina groans. "'Mione, why would you do this to me?"

"That's my trophy!" Hermione yells.

"Oh, shut it," Ginny says with a laugh. "I'm going to destroy that if you guys keep arguing over it."

George gasps and hugs the trophy tight. "You wouldn't  _dare_."

"You all turn in to  _children_  around it!"

"Do not!" Fred says. Ginny merely raises her eyebrows at him and turns back to loading her plate.

Conversation flows easily despite the fact that too many people are trying to talk at once. Hermione tries to keep up with as many conversations as she can.

She's currently listening to Lee tell the story about his dog ending up with a line of gnomes up her entire tail when Hermione hears it.

"Terrified the house-elves out of their wits," Nearly Headless Nick says to Ron and Harry.

Hermione's head whips around. "There are house-elves  _here?_  Here at  _Hogwarts?_ "

"Certainly. The largest number in any dwelling in Britain, I believe. Over a hundred."

Hermione's jaw drops. "I've never seen one!"

"Well, they hardly ever leave the kitchen by day, do they? They come out at night to do a bit of cleaning—see to the fires and so on. I mean, you're not supposed to see them, are you?" he asks rhetorically. "That's the mark of a good house-elf, isn't it, that you don't know it's there?"

She stares, completely unable to process this. She can hear Fred talking to her friends about Winky and saying something about Percy. Likely telling them how she found out how appalling house-elf ownership truly is. She focuses back on the ghost. "But they get paid? They get  _holidays_ , don't they? And—and sick leave, and pensions and everything?"

Nearly Headless Nick laughs. "Sick leave and pensions? House-elves don't want sick leave and pensions!"

Hermione wants to ask how he knows that, but her mind is elsewhere—in the kitchens, particularly. She looks down at her plate. She sets her utensils down and shoves the plate away from her.

"Oh, c'mon, 'Er-my-knee," Ron says. Food flies from his mouth and he apologizes to Harry before continuing at Hermione, "You won't get them sick leave by starving yourself!"

"Slave labor," she huffs. "That's what made this dinner.  _Slave labor._ "

"'Mine, our house-elves here aren't  _slaves_ , just eat your food," Fred sighs. He pushes her plate closer to her.

Immediately she shoves it back away. "Do  _not_  tell me to support this archaic system, Fred Weasley! This is—they're an entire species that need to be liberated from these awful customs and—"

"'Mine, how many house-elves have you met?" Fred asks with a frown.

She frowns back. "Winky and Dobby, the one that Harry told you about, but—"

"Two house-elves that come from the worst of situations a house-elf can come from," George cuts her off. "And even Dobby still wants to work. Meanwhile, Fred and I know each and every house-elf in the Hogwarts kitchen."

"They've been brainwashed!" Hermione argues. "They can't fight for themselves, they can't—"

Fred barks out a laugh. "House-elves have powers that even we don't have. They're plenty powerful to fight for themselves."

"Don't  _laugh_  at me," she snaps. "Their entire race has been enslaved and alright, Fred, they have powerful magic. But they don't know how to use it for themselves, do they? No!"

"Calm down, Herm," George says, with his hands held out in front of him. "Have you thought that maybe you're approaching this from the wrong angle?"

"And what other angle  _is there_ , George?"

"Well I'm not George," Fred begins, "but you're going for too much, too fast. No one, not even the house-elves, will go for it. They  _like_  working, and they're  _happy_  to do it. But there are house-elves out there like Winky who are mistreated beyond what words can describe, despite guidelines being in place."

George nods along. "Don't start off by trying to  _liberate_  them," he tells her. "Instead, get more regulations set in place, and make the consequences more than a fine that any old-money family can pay—like make abuse of a house-elf an offense against the Ministry, where a trial can be held and the house-elf can be relocated, away from guilty houses."

"And advocate for pay," Fred adds. "Sure, they like working more than anything else, but even on their days off they don't have the option to do much if they haven't got any money. Start low, so it doesn't sound overwhelming to the owners, and doesn't make the house-elves feel guilty."

"Don't tell the house-elves you want to give them more freedom or more rights, they won't like that," George continues. "Ask them where they'd like to go, or what they'd like to do. Then ask them if they'd like the chance to go. They won't think you're making them betray their owners or that you're trying to force them away from their work."

"And get to know some of them. They'll give you more ideas than we can. They love talking about what they do. Of course, the Hogwarts house-elves are treated fantastically, so you won't find any of them complaining—no, not even about their lack of pay. You just might find some of them hoping to see the ocean one day."

"They don't see themselves as slaves. They see themselves as  _house-elves_ , and they're proud of what they do. If you imply that what they're doing isn't right, they're either going to be hurt or angry."

"And it likely is due to how we've evolved them as wizards. But the point is, you're not going to do yourself any favors if you don't have them on your side, and you only know one house-elf who is free and  _likes_  being free, and the only freedom he's used is choosing who to work for and asking for pay," Fred reminds her. "The other house-elf you know is miserable without work. So liberation isn't the place to start, because you'll only be ridiculed, 'Mine. It's not going to happen overnight, but I know you well enough to know that if you want it to happen, you will make it happen. For your sake, and the house-elves, start small."

The table falls silent on his final word, and Hermione is left staring at them, wide-eyed. She has arguments, she  _always_  has arguments, but theirs are far better than hers. They have an upper hand, clearly, knowing the Hogwarts house-elves and being able to speak with the species regularly while she only knows two of them (and she hardly knows those two), but that's not the point. The point is that all of her arguments fall away the more she thinks about it.

The longer her silence stretches, the more the noise from her other friends picks back up. After everyone around her and the twins are back in their own conversations, Fred tries moving Hermione's plate towards her. He leans forward so he can see her face around the curtain of her hair. "There's a house-elf down there that is happy and proud of making your dinner. Eat, and I'll take you to meet them this weekend, yeah? You can tell them how good it was. That's a sure-fire way to make them like you."

Hermione eyes the food. "This weekend? Saturday? You promise?"

Fred nods. He puts a hand on her forearm and strokes his thumb across her skin soothingly making her skin burn. "Promise, 'Mine. But I won't have you starving yourself until then."

"Okay."

"Thank you."

She looks at Fred. Echoes his words. "Thank you."

*\

They go to the kitchens Saturday afternoon immediately after lunch.

Hermione watches, fascinated as Fred seems to—well, tickle?—the pear and coaxes it to let out a high pitched giggle. The portrait swings open after that, and that's when she hears them.

They have higher pitched voices and the sheer amount of the voices coming from beyond the doorway is overwhelming. It only gets worse when Fred steps through, George immediately behind him, and there are many— _so many_ —squeaks of excitement. She steps in the room. None of the house-elves seem to notice her.

"Misters Weasley!"

That seems to be the overwhelming greeting they receive, and Fred and George grin at them all.

"'ello," George greets. "Great job with the welcome feast, mates. We've got a friend here who thinks so, too."

There are at least a hundred cheers again, several thanks (especially from the elves closest to the twins), and a select few that seem to finally notice her.

Fred reaches back and grabs Hermione's hand, pulling her forward and all but presents her to the hoard of house-elves. "Pippit, this is our friend Hermione."

The house-elf in front of her bounces on to his tippy-toes. "Pippit is most honored, Miss Hermione. Miss Hermione is liking her food?"

Hermione smiles. She crouches down so she is eye-level with the elf. Pippit's eyes widen. "Very much, Pippit. You are all very talented."

"Ooh, thanks Miss Hermione, Miss Hermione thank you," Pippit says. He waves a hand upwards, urging her to stand up. When she does, Pippit drags her to a stove. "Miss Hermione likes waffles with chocolate chips?"

"Yes, actually." She's surprised that he remembers, all the way back from her first year. "How did you remember?"

"Misters Weasley ask Pippit and Nora to make waffles with chocolate chips for Miss Hermione."

Hermione laughs. When she turns to look at the twins, both of them are engaged in conversation with other house-elves, but Fred is smirking. He lifts his head and winks at Hermione. With a shake of her head, she returns her attention to Pippit.

"You and Nora make wonderful waffles. Thank you, Pippit."

Again, the elf bounces excitedly on his toes. "Ooh, thanks Miss Hermione."

"Of course," she smiles. "Pippit, may I ask how you came to Hogwarts?"

"Ooh, Mister Dumbledore," he says. "Mister Dumbledore brought Pippit to Hogwarts many years ago, Miss Hermione."

"Are you happy at Hogwarts?"

More toe bouncing. "Yes, Miss Hermione, yes. Mister Dumbledore is kind, Miss McGonagall is kind, Misters Weasley are kind, everyone is kind."

"Did you work for anyone before Professor Dumbledore hired you?"

"No, Miss Hermione, no. Pippit has always wanted to work, but masters all said that Pippit was too small. Mister Dumbledore didn't mind Pippit being small."

"That's great, Pippit," she says. It almost feels genuine. There's too much here to open in one day, but Pippit is excited and happy, as opposed to Winky's anxiety and fearfulness. In fact, each house-elf in the room seems to be cheerful as they dance and play with one another during their down time. There's much that she wants to do for these creatures, but she thinks Fred and George have a point: this isn't going to happen overnight, and she doesn't think Pippit, or any of the other house-elves, would be happy with her proposing such a foreign idea to them.

Nearly an hour later they leave, and Hermione feels light. There are still others out there who aren't fortunate enough to be at Hogwarts, to be working under a kind man like Dumbledore. Those will be her first targets—regulations on house-elf ownership and strict enforcement of those regulations, just as George had suggested. She knows she's going to make a difference in their lives—she's sure of it.

*\

Nearly two months pass with little to no excitement. Hermione's birthday passes with a letter and gift from her parents and a celebration and gifts from all of her friends. She founds S.P.E.W. and writes to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures about her ideas. She doesn't hear back from them (at least not more than a generic 'we appreciate your letter'). Angelina celebrates her seventeenth birthday and Hermione gives her a car keychain, joking that she can drive it now, much to the confusion of her friends. Durmstrang and Beauxbatons arrive and the Goblet of Fire is set out.

And of course, her barmy friends try to enter.

She should clarify.

Her barmy,  _sixteen-year-old_  friends try to enter a contest for seventeen-year-olds.

She can't help but roll her eyes as Fred, George, and Lee thunder in, cheering all the while. They explain their brilliant plan to the others, and Hermione scoffs.

"It's not going work," Hermione sing-songs.

The twins look at each other, and then her. They have grins on their faces as they crouch on either side of her.

"Oh yeah?" Fred asks.

"And why's that, Professor o'Mione?" George says.

She rolls her eyes. "Dumbledore added an age line.  _Himself_."

"So?" Fred says.

" _So_ ," she stresses, "a genius like Dumbledore couldn't  _possibly_  be fooled by a dodge as pathetically dimwitted as an aging potion!"

The breath gets sucked from her chest in surprise as Fred wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her close. "Ah! But that's why it's so  _brilliant_ ," he smirks.

George puts his arm around her shoulders and says, " _because_  it's so pathetically dimwitted."

It's not even a full minute before two of her best friends are thrown from the line as the rest of the hall laughs.

"I did warn you," Professor Dumbledore's voice rings through the hall, delighted. "I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey. She is already tending to Miss Fawcett, or Ravenclaw, and Mr. Summers, of Hufflepuff, both of whom decided to age themselves up a little too. Though I must say, neither of their beards is anything like as fine as yours."

They both leave without a protest, but not before Hermione can tell them that this clearly is proof that they should listen to her from here on out.

*\

"Hey, 'Mione," Katie grins holding up a newsletter, "when were you planning on telling us about your secret love with our own Gryffindor champion?"

"We're waiting for the wedding, figured we'd shock everyone," she answered, deadpan.

"Good strategy," Ron said from beside Katie. "Harry's in a habit of lying and not telling his friends things anyways, eh?"

"Oh, yes Ron. This entirely fictional thing compares quite nicely to your entirely fictional scenario," she snaps. She stands up from the table and gathers her bag.

The group watches, confused. "Where are you going?" Fred asks.

"To sit with Harry, since clearly his best friends is too dull to  _be his best friend_ ," Hermione says.

"What?" Alicia groans. "No, Hermione, we already get you less than Harry; you spend every class with him and half of your free time with him!"

"We'll kick Ron out and bring Harry over," Ginny suggests.

"Yes, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" Ron mutters.

Ginny turns sharp eyes on her brother. "If you're going to continue acting like this, yes. I would."

"I'll see you guys later tonight," Hermione sighs. She tosses one last glare at Ron and then marches off to where Harry is sitting near Neville, Seamus, and Dean. She sits across from him. "So I've heard you're my one true love, or something like that."

Harry smiles.

*\

Hermione is late to dinner.

She's rarely (never) late to dinner, so as soon as she walks in, there are six pairs of eyes on her. She runs her tongue over her teeth subconsciously as she walks down the aisle to her friends. There's laughter from the Slytherin table as she passes. She keeps walking, giving no indication she cares, or even that she heard them.

When she sits down, she apologizes to her friends and explains that it was a small potions mishap. The conversation picks back up and carries on as normal until Hermione laughs at something Katie says.

"Is—did you—" Fred stops. He studies her face.

"What?"

"Something's different."

Hermione draws in a breath. "What? What would be different?"

"Look at me, 'Mione," Alicia says. Hermione does. "I don't see anything different."

"There," Hermione says, "see, Fred?"

"Wait," Angelina cuts in. "Look over here? Smile? With your bloody teeth, 'Mione." Reluctantly, Hermione bares her teeth. "Aha! What happened to your teeth?"

"What do you mean?"

Fred reaches up and grabs her face and pulls it around so she's facing him. She feels her cheeks burn red beneath his hold. He stares at her. "Smile."

"No!"

"They're smaller," he says. He almost sounds upset. "Why?"

"It's nothing." Honestly, she's surprised anyone even noticed. Then she thinks back on how much she hated the size of her teeth, and how relieved she is to have them actually align nicely now, and she's not so surprised anymore.

Alicia glares. "I've heard you use 'it's nothing' enough to know that the only time it ever is  _something_ , you say it's nothing."

She sighs. "A jinx misfired and hit me. My teeth grew and I—well. I didn't tell Madam Pomfrey to  _stop_  quite when she would have for my teeth to be back to their normal size. I just let her keep going."

"Oh," Fred says. "Are you more comfortable with them like this?"

"Loads," Hermione nods.

"That's good."

"Is it? You guys didn't seem too happy about it."

"That's because you were acting like something bad had happened," Alicia tells her. "As long as you're comfortable and okay, that's all that's important, 'Mione."

Hermione thinks back to Snape's comment, her utter embarrassment and humiliation in front of her class and the Slytherins. She thinks that his cruel comment can't compete with the overwhelming love from her friends, and protection of Harry and Ron. She thinks she's perfectly comfortable right here, yes.

*\

"Want a jam tart, 'Mine?" Fred asks as they celebrate Harry's successful completion of the first task (and Hermione celebrates Harry and Ron making up).

Hermione glances at the platter and picks one up. "You know if these are hexed I'll jinx all your hair off your head?" She takes a bite, holding steady, threatening eye contact with him.

Fred's grin falters. "I'm glad I didn't offer you a cream puff."

Across the room, Neville stops chewing his cream puff.

*\

Quidditch is cancelled for the year, but that doesn't stop Hermione's friends from conjugating at the pitch at least once a week for a mock-up game. This week she's left late in the afternoon on a Saturday. It's the perfect opportunity to get ahead in her classes, so she carries her workload up to the library and settles in.

Hermione is entirely unsure of how much time passes before she hears someone clear their throat.

"Eh—em, may I… sit here?"

She looks up from her books to the intruding voice and stops herself short. Viktor Krum is standing in front of her looking absolutely petrified. He looks over his shoulder and Hermione wonders if he's trying to escape a horde of fans. When he looks back to her, she smiles. "Of course, yes."

"Thank you," he says with a nod. Books spill out of his school bag when he sets it down on the table and his face goes red as he races to collect them all and move them back to his bag. "Sorry."

"No," Hermione shakes her head, "no need to be sorry. Happens to everyone, doesn't it?" No, she thinks, it doesn't happen to everyone. No one carries around that many books except for her.

"I am Viktor. Is nice to meet you."

"Oh, nice to meet you, as well. I'm Hermione," she tells him. She sticks out her hand and he shakes it. "You know, I can teach you a spell to expand your school bag so you can fit all of your books in. If you'd like, that is."

Viktor's eyebrows furrow together. "Vot do you mean?"

Hermione lifts her school bag from the floor. With a grin, she tells Viktor, "watch." From there, she proceeds to pull out seven books from her bag, and with each book, Viktor's eyebrows seem to reach higher on his forehead. "I created a spell with my professor so my bag would expand on the inside, but not the outside."

"Expand?"

"Yes, but only on the inside, so it can hold my books."

"No, no, eh—vot is  _expand?_ " Once again, Viktor's face colors red.

"Oh! It—well. When something expands it… grows bigger? I guess that would be the most accurate way to put it."

Viktor looks at her bag, and then to his own. "I vould like that very much, Her-min-ninny."

"Oh. It's  _Hermione_."

"Her-moan-ninny?"

"Her-my-knee."

"Herm-in-ninny."

"Her- _my_ -knee."

"Hermy-owny."

Hermione laughs. "That's close enough. Can I see your bag?"

Viktor handed the bag over easily enough. The books sprawled across the table—both in front of Hermione and Viktor—went forgotten for the next hour.

*\

Another two weeks pass. The school is buzzing about the Yule Ball announcement from a few days ago, but Hermione couldn't care less at the moment, not when there's a test in potions next week and Professor Snape seems to be twice as moody this year. She's even recruited Alicia and Angelina to help her study, not willing to leave any wiggle room in her answers for Snape to dock points.

"Hermy-owny."

Hermione looks up. She smiles at Viktor, her stress forgotten for the time being. "Hello, Viktor."

He nods at her, then shifts on his feet. Alicia and Angelina are eyeing her, but she ignores them. "May I sit?" Viktor asks, motioning at the chair beside her.

"Of course!" Hermione nods, moving some of her books out of the way. She turns to her friends. "Alicia, Angelina, this is Viktor Krum. Viktor, these are my friends, Alicia Spinnet and Angelina Johnson."

Viktor greets them kindly. He takes out one of his books and a scroll of parchment, but doesn't set to work like he normally does. He seems to be hesitating before finally coming to some sort of decision. He turns to her, so his entire body is facing her. "Hermy-owny," he begins. "This Yule Ball that is coming up. I vos vondering if you vould accompany me?"

Hermione's eyebrows shoot up, and she turns to Alicia and Angelina, whose expressions seem stuck between excitement and shock. Alicia kicks Hermione under the table, and she jumps. She smiles at Viktor. "I'd enjoy that, yes."

Viktor's face blossoms into a smile. "Ah! Chu—eh—vonderful, yes?"

Hermione blushes. She nods and then returns to her studies, ignoring her friends trying to get her attention across from her, even though they very well could still be trying to help her study. She doesn't want to chance it make a fool of herself in front of Viktor, and she knows that she might, if forced to face them.

Once dinner arrives however, she can't avoid them. (Or, she could sit with Harry and Ron, but then Fred, George, and Ginny would all pout about it and she can't handle all three of them pouting at once.)

She arrives before Alicia and Angelina and takes a spot near Katie, Ginny, and Lee. They follow in shortly after her, and she tries to deter them by taking small bites, one after another so her mouth is never empty. They don't care and jump right in as soon as they've piled food on their own plates.

"Merlin, Hermione," Alicia giggles, completely losing her calm demeanor. "You're going to the Yule Ball with  _Krum!_ "

" _Shhh!_ " she hisses. She glances around, but no one seems to have heard. "I… It doesn't need to be announced."

"You're going to the ball with Krum?" Lee asks, excitement filling his voice. "Do y'think you can get me—"

"No! No autographs! This is exactly why no one needs to know!" she huffs, and shoves another bite of her dinner into her mouth.

"Know what?" two nearly identical voices chime from around her head. She glances to both sides and scowls as the twins sit down on either side of her. With a quick glance she sees George settling in on her left, leaving Fred on her right.

"Nothing—"

"Hermione's got a  _daaate_ ," Ginny sing-songs.

To her right, Fred freezes in shock as he's loading up his plate. "Oh? Who was brave enough to go up against our dear 'Mione-love?"

" _Krum_ ," Angelina says. "He even told her when we were leaving the library that he's been going there for weeks to build up the nerve to ask her on a date and that the Yule Ball was his perfect—eh, choice? Was it his perfect choice, 'Mione?"

Hermione glares at her friend. Angelina continues to grin at her, but Hermione will not break. She will not encourage this. She will not—

"'D'you mean  _chance_ , Viktor?'" Alicia croons in a sweet, high voice.

"'Eh, yes.  _Chance_ , Herm-own-ninny,'" Angelina answers back with a deep voice.

"'It's Her-my-knee, Viktor—'"

"I'm sorry," Hermione cuts in. "Is that supposed to be  _me?_ "

Alicia grins at Hermione and flutters her eyelashes. "Yes?" she answers in the same voice.

"You're both the  _worst_."

Angelina tosses a green bean at her. "Is that why you ditched us for Krum when we left the library?"

" _No_ , I left because—"

"Because Viktor wanted to get to know her, remember?" Alicia says.

"My, my, my, 'Mine," George chuckles and takes a rough smack to the back of his head from Fred when the ''Mine' slips out. He grimaces and rubs the spot with a hand but carries on, "you've gone ahead and done your own brand of magic on the poor bloke!"

"You made him fall in  _love_ ," Katie agrees, clasping her hands under her chin dreamily.

"I did not!" Hermione protests. "We're going as  _friends_ , I'll have you know, and—"

"There was nothing  _friendly_  about those looks he was giving you," Alicia sniggers.

Ginny nods. "I've seen him talking to you a few times and I think you're the only person I've ever seen him smile at."

"If Ginny hadn't just said that I still would be under the impression that he couldn't smile," Lee says.

"Well," Fred says, tossing an arm around Hermione's shoulders. When he leans in close and the skin crawling starts back up, Hermione can do nothing but freeze because  _oh_. She thinks she's figured it out, now. Piss poor timing, if you ask her. "Now there's only one thing left to do."

She swallows heavily, even though there's nothing in her mouth and braces herself. "What's that?" she asks warily.

George throws his arm over Hermione's shoulders next so it's overlapping with his brother's. When Fred's arm is pressed tighter to her neck, her chest swells and deflates, as if she's just gone over a large hill in the car. No one seems to notice that Hermione is in the middle of a life altering realization. George leans in just as his brother had. "We've got to make sure his intentions are pure, and just have a nice…  _chat_  with him."

Shrugging off their arms, she shakes her head vehemently. "No. No, no,  _no_ , you will do  _no_  such things, and if you  _do_ , I will hex all of your food with your dumb  _Canary Cream_  spell to turn you into—"

"I  _told_  you that you never should have divulged that information to her," Lee grumbles.

"Hermione would never," George says confidently.

Hermione retrieves her wand from her side and aims it at George's plate.

" _But_ ," George says, reaching and pushing her arm down and away from his food, "on the off chance that she ever would, we should listen to her."

"Can't believe you'd use our own hexes against us, Granger," Fred laments, though his eyes are mirthful. Hermione freezes—she can't think of a damn thing to say to him in this moment. What if it somehow gives away exactly what she's thinking? What she's feeling? "After all we've been through, all we've seen together…"

"You still prank me and I'm your sister and I've been through all my thirteen years with you," Ginny cuts in, much to Hermione's relief. "Three years of friendship is nothing on that scale."

"Ah, but you're our  _sister_ ," Fred agrees.

"Family members are never off limits," George explains.

"Oi, why don't  _we_  get this information?" Angelina frowns. "We've been around longer than Hermione."

Lee smirks and shoots a glance a Fred. Hermione looks at Fred who stares down his friend. "Well, don't you know—"

"Hermione appreciates the brilliance behind our creations," Fred cuts Lee off.

"We're also worried she'd owl Mum if she didn't know everything we were doing was technically safe," George adds.

"I most likely would  _not_ ," Hermione says.

Fred barks out a laugh and nudges her with his elbow. "Thanks for the reassurance, 'Mine."

Her heart flutters at the nickname. She doesn't know what else to do, so she nudges him back. "Any time, Fredrick."

*\

The realization of her feelings for Fred has changed absolutely nothing. Despite her Gryffindor bravery, this is a risk she cannot take. Before anything else, Fred is her best friend and she refuses to ruin that. She's happy with the decision for the most part, even if she feels more on edge now that she's aware of her feelings. She hasn't let it impact their friendship, not in the slightest. She just wishes she could turn off the electricity that rises to the surface of her skin whenever he's near.

For example, Hermione is with Ron and Harry in the common room when they approach. It doesn't surprise Hermione when Fred and George take seats next to her when she's with Harry and Ron, not anymore. After all, the line between her two groups of friends has been getting blurrier and blurrier. However, even with her acceptance of her feelings, it still surprises her when her arms break in to goose pimples when Fred crams himself in to the seat next to her.

She listens as the three siblings talk about Pigwidgeon, and then Fred casually ask, "so… you two got dates for the ball yet?"

Hermione glares at him out of the corner of her eye—she does  _not_  want Ron finding out that she is going with Viktor, not when he'll start asking for an autograph, to meet him properly, and do everything that Hermione wants to  _avoid_.

Thankfully Ron doesn't notice the wording, and shakes his head. "Nope."

"Well, you'd better hurry up, mate, or all the good ones will be gone," he says, and smirks at Hermione.

She feels like she's going to be sick her stomach has dropped so far.

"Who're you going with, then?" Ron asks.

"Angelina," Fred says and—

"What?"

Hermione looks at Ron, who asked the same question at the same time as her.

Ron continues on, "you've already asked her?"

"Good point," Fred says. He turns around. "Oi! Angelina!"

Angelina looks over to the group. "What?"

"Want to come to the ball with me?"

Hermione turns back to her work and tries to ignore the flare of irrational anger when Angelina calls back "all right then." It's ridiculous. Hermione  _has_  a date. Both Fred and Angelina know this. Just because Fred is her best friend and also happens to be her crush doesn't mean for a moment that he shouldn't go to the ball with someone! Fred and Angelina  _deserve_  one another. They're easily two of the most wonderful people in this school, and in Hermione's opinion, the world. If Fred is going to be with someone who isn't Hermione, Hermione can at least be glad he's going to be with someone as incredible as Angelina.

She also thinks maybe she can be a little bit sad.

*\

"Don't laugh—" Hermione hears Ginny saying as she climbs through the portrait hole. She sees Ginny sitting with Harry and Ron and frowns.

"Why weren't you two at dinner?" she asks, leaving her other friends behind.

"Because—oh, shut up laughing you two—because they've both just been turned down by girls they asked to the ball," Ginny says.

Ron's mirthful expression falls, as does Harry's, and he glares at his sister. "Thanks a bunch, Ginny."

Hermione tries to hold her laughter in. "All the good-looking ones taken, Ron? Eloise Midgen starting to look quite pretty now, is she? Well, I'm sure you'll find someone  _somewhere_  who'll have you."

From behind her she can hear the twins, Lee, and the girls laughing. Ron, however, was not. He also did not look offended or upset though she knows her words would usually throw him into a red-faced fit. He was just—staring at her. She shifts uncomfortably, and he sits up straighter. "Hermione, Neville's right—you  _are_  a girl…"

"Ten points to Gryffindor," Lee mutters sarcastically.

Hermione scowls. "Oh. Well spotted."

Ron has the decency to blush a little at that but continues nonetheless. "Yes, well—you can come with one of us!"

"No, I can't."

He rolls his eyes. "Oh come on, we need partners, we're going to look really stupid if we haven't got any, everyone else has."

"I can't come with you because I'm already going with someone."

"No you're not! You just said that to get rid of Neville!"

"Oh, Ronni," Fred says. It sounds like he's holding back laughter but Hermione can't find a single humorous thing about his words.

"Oh, did I?" Hermione asks. She turns to Alicia. "Alicia, did I do that?"

"No Hermione," Alicia answers in a professional tone, though she's fighting to keep the corners of her lips from turning up. "I don't believe you did."

"Right," she says, and looks back to Ron. "Just because it's taken  _you_  three years to notice, Ron, doesn't mean no one  _else_  has spotted I'm a girl."

Ron is quiet for a moment, and then he grins. "Oh, no," Katie mutters. "Don't do it."

"Okay, okay. We know you're a girl. That do? Will you come now?"

"He did it," Angelina sighs.

"Right," Fred says, stepping forward and putting a hand on Hermione's shoulder just as she feels her fists clench and her mouth open to yell. "If Hermione hadn't already had a date, I would have asked her—no offense to Angelina. She probably would have said yes to Neville. There's a Ravenclaw fifth year that's been making eyes at her since the ball was announced. But she does have a date and as much as I'd love to see what she'd do to you if you kept going, I also don't want to see her expelled."

"Why would  _you_  ask Hermione?" Ron scoffs.

The hand on Hermione's shoulder tightens. This time, Katie steps forward. "Ron, stop. Hermione is our friend. She would have been going with someone in our group if her date hadn't asked her before we even started talking about the ball. You sound like a git."

Ron is left staring at the girl trying to think of something to say as he opens and closes his mouth like a fish.

Hermione can't say she doesn't find it a little funny.

*\

"'Mione?"

She looks up from the table she'd fled to. The music from the band is too loud in her ears and she thinks about just leaving the ball entirely. "Hey," she says as she spots Alicia, Katie, and Angelina walking towards her. "I'm sorry for just leaving like that."

"You don't need to apologize," Katie says. She takes a seat on the steps next to Hermione and grabs her hand. "We want to make sure you're alright."

"Yeah," Hermione laughs, but it's empty, "I'm fine."

"Yeah," Alicia says, "I can tell by the tears. I like to cry when I'm fine, too."

It's a genuine laugh that comes from her this time, but it's still weak. She wipes at her eyes and silently thanks Merlin that Angelina spelled the light make up she'd worn for tonight into place. "I just—I don't know why I care so much what Ronald thinks, honestly. Viktor is… he's sweet, and smart, and funny. I'm allowed to have a good time with him, aren't I?"

" _Yes_ ," Katie says firmly. "It's ridiculous that you're even asking that, 'Mione. You deserve to have a great time with him."

"Then why does Ron think it's so  _horrid_  that I'm here with Viktor?"

Angelina frowns. "I… I think he might be jealous."

"Jealous?" Hermione scoffs. "What would Ron have to be jealous of? Did  _he_  want to take Viktor to the ball? Well, that's entirely possible, actually—"

" _No_ ," Angelina says. "He wanted to take  _you_."

"He didn't even know I was a girl, Ange."

"Yes he did," Katie says. "Everyone does. Ron may be an idiot, but this makes sense. It's his first chance to see you in a light where you'd be more than friends and—"

"Oh  _no_ ," Angelina mutters under her breath. Hermione is about to ask what is wrong but before she can, Angelina breaks out into a fit of manic giggles. Unsure of what exactly to do, she looks to Alicia and Katie. Both of them are wide-eyed as they stare at Angelina. "This is going to be  _awful_." The tone in Angelina's voice is the exact opposite of her words.

Hermione is absolutely lost.

"I think… Herms, I think they're right," Alicia says. "Ron  _is_  jealous and—well. I'm happy for you and Viktor in the very least. And you should be happy about Viktor. He seems like a good bloke."

Hermione agrees, but—"what is Angelina talking about?"

"It's nothing you have to worry about," Alicia tells her. She grabs Hermione's hand and pulls her close. "Nothing you have to worry about if Viktor is treating you well and you're happy."

Is she? Yes, there's no doubt that Viktor is treating her well. He's the perfect gentleman and Hermione can't seem to stop blushing around him what with all the compliments he's doling out to her. Is she happy though? In this moment, no. In this moment, she's furious with Ron and hurt about what Ron said. She understands Alicia is talking about whether or not she's happy with Viktor, but she doesn't understand how she can be when one of her friends so loudly disapproves. Yet still, she thinks that once she's able to put Ron's protests in the back of her mind, she'll go back to enjoying the night.

"I guess I am," she says. "I was plenty happy before Ron opened his mouth."

"That's all that matters. Go enjoy your night, 'Mione. Your date is looking for you." Alicia points to a figure sat alone at one of the tables. Two drinks sit in front of him. A girl comes up and speaks with him, and his only answer seems to be a shaken head. The girl storms off. Hermione smiles.

"I think I will." Before she can make her way to the table, she thinks about putting Ron from her mind, and what would help best with that. Her mind drifts to the only thing that can make her happier than these three girls. "Hey, where are Fred, George, and Lee?"

Angelina, who is still wiping tears away from her fit of laughter, nods towards the entrance of the hall. "They pulled Ron out with them a few minutes ago. I expect they'll be back soon. You best be getting back to your date though."

Hermione frowns. She really should. She'd left him with no explanation. "Right. Tell them thanks, I guess. And if you see Ginny tell her what happened, would you? I know she's going to ask later tonight but I'd rather not recount all of this."

"Of course," Alicia says. She drops Hermione's hand and pulls her in to a hug. "Now  _go_."

*\

It's not until the ball is winding down that she sees Fred or George again. Hermione is sitting at the table with Viktor who is talking animatedly about potions. Hermione isn't entirely sure she can follow—not only is his curriculum much more advanced than hers, but as he talks, he jumps back and forth between English and Bulgarian, seemingly with no notice. She's still ecstatic to see his enthusiasm. From what she's learned about him, potions is his strong subject. Just about everything else is his weaker subject.

As Viktor tells her about his success brewing Veritserum (she thinks) and how in their potions curriculum they take the truth serum in order to build up a tolerance to it (she's sure about this one), Fred approaches. Viktor pauses his speech and looks up to the redhead. Hermione smiles at him.

"So sorry to cut in," Fred says, "but I was hoping I might get one dance with my friend before the night has ended?"

Viktor looks at Hermione, who is looking at him. "Is your choice," he says, motioning towards Fred with an open hand. "Cannot make for you."

Hermione grins and stands from her seat. "I'll be right back?"

"Have good time," Viktor says.

Once Hermione is around the table and standing next to Fred, he extends a hand to her. She takes it and allows him to lead her to the dance floor. There's a mellow beat playing—she can see Neville and Ginny dancing at arms length in the far corner, Alicia and George twirling exaggeratedly, Lee, Katie, and Angelina finishing off their drinks, and Ron and Harry still pouting.

Fred pulls her body in close to hers, places a hand delicately on her waist, and adjusts his grip on her hand. "Have you had a good time?"

"Yes," Hermione answers. "A wonderful time, really."

"Even with Ron trying his best to ruin it?"

"Yes, even with that," she says. "What did you say to him, anyways? He looked even more upset when you came back with him."

"Eh—small threats, really. Nothing too worrisome."

"Fred!" Hermione gasps. "He's your brother!"

"And you're my best friend," he shrugs. It feels odd, having Fred be so serious. It's happened many times before, but here, dancing at a proper ball, it felt too—well. Hermione didn't want to get her mind going. "I'd do most anything for Ron—even die for the arsehole—but I won't let him treat my friends like rubbish."

Hermione squeezes his hand and smiles up at him. "I appreciate that, you know?"

"I do."

"You know what Angelina said?" she asks in an eager tone.

Fred laughs. "What?"

"She thinks he was  _jealous_. Can you believe that?"

The smile wipes off his face. "I—well, yeah, probably actually."

"What?" Hermione asks, surprised. "But—it's  _Ron_. And I'm  _Hermione_. You can't tell me you've ever thought of those two names as if they'd be linked romantically, can you?"

"I can't, no," he answers honestly.

"So then why would he be jealous?"

"Because you're you," Fred laughs, as if Hermione is missing something obvious. She's starting to feel like she might be. Fred looks over to Ron and frowns. "Jealous or not, he's still got no reason to treat you like he has been. "

Hermione nods. "I can agree with that, at least."

" _At least?_  What's that supposed to mean? You're my best friend, aren't you supposed to agree with everything I say?" Fred pouts.

"Oh,  _Merlin_ , no," she laughs. "You'll have to take my sanity before I agree with the majority of what you say."

Fred pulls her in closer until their fronts are pressed together. He rests his chin atop her head and says, "that can be arranged."

Standing here, with her heart nearly beating out her chest, she thinks it already has been.

*\

The rest of Christmas holidays pass swiftly and the start of a new term passes with little more excitement than Hagrid temporarily losing his post.

Hermione is sitting with her friends the morning after their first Hogsmeade trip when an owl swoops down and drops a letter for her. Conversation carries on around her as she reads through the letter from her parents. They drone on and on about the web page that they've had someone design for their dentistry practice and how incredible the Internet has become in even the few months that Hermione has been away. They also ask her to thank Fred and George for the picture ( _"we think it's a picture. It moves! What do you call pictures that move?"_ ).

"What picture did you send my parents?" Hermione says, loud enough to pause conversations. She keeps rereading that part of the letter over and over again, completely unable to process it.

"Oh," George says, "we thought you probably wouldn't send them one so we thought we would."

"I didn't even think of it," she admits. It's not that she didn't want her parents to see her, or that she didn't care for them to. She simply didn't think to send a picture from a Hogwarts event to her Muggle parents.

"We noticed," Fred says, and holds up the letter that an owl had dropped off for him. "They wrote us to thank us and say what a horrible daughter you are for not even thinking of sending them one."

"Sure," Hermione rolls her eyes.

Fred quirks an eyebrow and hands the letter over. Hermione takes it and reads it over. When she's done, Fred is smirking. "Your mum likes me better."

"I think she actually likes me best," George cuts in. "I  _was_  the one who took the picture."

Fred grimaces and nods back to the letter. "She might actually like Viktor better. ' _Tell my daughter to bring that boy home this summer!_ ' Can you believe it, Georgie? Us being snubbed so thoughtlessly?"

"Is this who you've been sending all the owls to?" Hermione demands. "Just how long have you two been owling my parents?  _Why_  have you been?"

"We haven't," George says. "We've been owling—well."

"D'you remember our bet with Bagman?" Fred asks. "At the World Cup?"

"Yes, why?" Hermione frowns.

"When he paid us, he accidentally gave us the payment in leprechaun gold. He's a hard man to reach, though."

"Oh, no," Hermione frowns. "That's why you interrupted his talk with Harry?"

"Well, that and Harry looked like he needed saving," George says.

"But mostly because we want our money," Fred tells Hermione honestly.

Before Hermione has the chance to say anything, a scone hits Hermione squarely in the forehead. Hermione yelps while the twins gasp in surprise. All of them look up to see a wide-eyed Ginny. "I was aiming for George!"

" _What?_ " George yells. "Why were you aiming for me?"

"You've been ignoring me for the past five minutes!"

"Don't you want to be a chaser, Gin?" Fred asks as he picks up the scone and tosses it up in the air. His eyes turn to his sister. "You'll need to work on your aim."

And then he throws the scone back, and hits the spot between her eyes.

In less than a second, at least three scones whiz towards and past Hermione, coming from all directions as the girls all try to hit Fred, George, and Lee. Hermione gathers up her letter and shoves a few untouched scones into her bag and makes her escape.

*\

"Oh, this is no use," Hermione groans. She shuts one of the many books spread in front of them. "Who on earth wants to make their nose hair grow into ringlets?"

"I wouldn't mind," Fred's voice says as two hands fall heavy on her shoulders. He leans over so his face is next to hers. She looks at him—almost going cross-eyed from how close his face is to hers. "Be a talking point, wouldn't it?"

"What're you two doing here?" Ron asks, scowling at Fred, who stands back up to his full height but leaves his hands resting on Hermione's shoulders.

"Looking for you," George answers. "McGonagall wants you, Ron." He turns to Hermione with a quirked eyebrow. "And you, 'Mione."

Hermione tenses. Fred's hands squeeze her shoulders. " _Why?_ "

"Dunno," Fred shrugs. He looks uncomfortable. "She was looking a bit…  _grim_ , though."

George motions between himself and Fred. "We're supposed to take you down to her office."

Hermione looks at the plethora of books spread across the table and then at a clock hanging on the wall. It was nearly six. She stands up. "We'll meet you back in the common room. Bring as many of these books as you can, okay?"

"Right," Harry says, but he doesn't sound confident.

The twins lead them out of the library and down the corridors. While they walk, Ron talks to his brothers about the lack of progress they've made with Harry. Hermione wants to join in, but her mind is too focused on what could be so important that Professor McGonagall called her and Ron away from Harry so close to the second task. They weren't breaking any rules by helping him, were they?

She didn't care either way. This tournament could kill Harry if he ends up inadequately prepared, and she'd rather get in trouble for helping him than losing her best friend.

It's not much longer before they stop outside of Professor McGonagall's office. Ron hesitates outside the office and, if Hermione is being honest, she does, too.

"Hey," Fred calls. He's staring at her when she turns to him, but his eyes flick to Ron, as well. "Be careful, yeah? Minnie really did look unsettled earlier."

"We don't think she's about to send you on  _another_  quest against the Dark Arts," George says.

"Not without Harry, anyway," Fred chimes.

George nods, "but we'd feel better if you could promise not to do anything stupid all the same."

Ron looks between his brothers. "When have you two ever cared about doing something stupid?"

Fred laughs, but it's off. He can't meet their eyes. "You're right, Ronnikins. Make no promises, what do we care? See you at the lake tomorrow."

He runs off down the hall then, and George frowns. He stares after his brother, and looks back to Hermione and Ron. "Well,  _I_  still care, so please promise no stupidity. 'Right?"

Hermione nods. "Of course, George. I'll find you guys later, okay?"

(Just before Dumbledore casts the spell on her, she thinks she made the wrong promise to George.)

*\

"So," Fred says, "you're the person that Krum would sorely miss?"

Hermione's face ignites. "I suppose so."

He hums. His eyes are fixated on the lake that she'd been submerged in less than twenty-four hours ago. "Always thought him a bit dim but he's managed to find one of the only ones in this castle worth missing."

"He-he's not  _dim_ ," Hermione frowns.

"Bet he can't keep up with you though, can he?"

"No, but—well, not to sound full of it but I haven't met many students who can."

There's a long stretch of silence. "I guess I can't be angry with Harry anymore, can I?"

"What? What do you mean?"

"Well, I always was angry with him for putting your life at risk. But this time Harry wasn't the one who got you tied up at the bottom of a lake, was he?" Fred says. He curls his arm around her. "Now I just have you to be angry at, because it seems that it's  _you_  who puts yourself in all these positions."

Hermione rolls her eyes. "It's not like I  _mean_  to."

"You'd better not." His hand moves to her hair and tangles itself in her frizz. "If you did, I'd have to genuinely be angry with you."

"That wouldn't be anything new; you've yelled at me many times."

He shrugs. "I was scared. I  _am_  scared. What would you do if something tried to take one of your friends from you?"

Hermione doesn't have to answer. They both  _know_  the answer. She'd stop at almost nothing. She's risked her life several times already for the sake of Harry's, and she knows she will continue to do so. She doesn't want to think about if it were Fred that was in danger. She doesn't think she can, it'd be too hard.

Fred doesn't press. He lets her sit in silence and moves his hand to massage her scalp. Even while she knows this has been the nature of her relationship with Fred for all the years that she's known him, it feels different now. Sitting in silence and feeling assured that she's safe by nothing more than physical contact. She had never acknowledged, or perhaps even realized, how she felt for Fred before. Now it's all that she can think about when they have a moment together.

They have a lot of moments together, really.

"Why are you always the one to find me, Fred?"

His hand stops. "What do you mean?"

"Well, it's just—whenever I'm trying to hide or taking a break you always seem to find me."

"Is that a bad thing? I can stop."

Hermione smiles and leans into him. His hand starts massaging her head again. "No, it's not a bad thing. You're my best friend. I'm safe with you. I don't need to hide or take breaks from you. I simply don't understand why it's never Alicia or Harry, or any of the others."

"It's probably because I'm always looking for you," he says. Hermione draws in a sharp breath. Fred keeps on talking and doesn't seem to have noticed. "You're my best friend, too. And, well, I've grown up with George by my side my entire life, so it's hard for me to remind myself that not everyone is used to spending the majority of their waking hours with their closest friends. I see George and Lee all the time—we're in the same classes, in the same dormitory, and they don't leave me at lunch to sit with their other friends," he teases with a smirk. "But I always have to find you. I've gotten quite good at it."

"I don't mean to hide."

"I think you do," he says. "That's okay. Your life is hectic. Your friends are all idiots."

"Well, one of them is." She stares pointedly at Fred.

"Listen, 'Mine, I know I've got the same color hair as Ron, but—"

"Oh—shut it," she laughs.

He grins down at her and pulls her head into his chest until they're pressed together. He presses his lips to the back of her head. He leaves them there and tells her softly, "I'm the one with the idiot friend. Can't  _believe_  you were tied up down there yesterday."

"Hey!"

"What am I supposed to think about that?" he laughs, pulling away so Hermione can turn to him. "Am I supposed to be  _happy_  that you could have drowned? Or thankful that  _Viktor_  didn't let you?"

There's a teasing note in his voice that Hermione wants to fight against, so she shoves him into the lake. When he resurfaces, Hermione grins. "Why don't I tie  _you_  up at the bottom of the lake so you have plenty of time to think about it?"

"Will Viktor save me?"

"No, he doesn't save the idiot friends."

"How did he save you, then?"

"I am not—Fred, do  _not_. Don't you— _Fredrick Gideon Weasley!_ "

She can't yell at him any further after he drags her by the ankle into the freezing water.

*\

"'Mine? 'Mione!" Fred calls after her. She hears a  _thunk_  from behind her but doesn't stop. Doesn't even think about stopping. She makes it out of the hall easily, but when she's just about to turn the corner, a hand grabs her arm. " _Hermione!_ " Fred hisses. She yelps in pain when her hands knock against each other and his hand falls away immediately, as if her robe has burned his hand.

" _What_ , Fred?" Hermione asks, turning around while the sores on her skin continue to grow.

Fred's eyes are locked on her hands. "What—let's go. Now," he says. He places a hand on the small of her back and pushes her towards Madam Pomfrey's.

She doesn't bother trying to stop her tears on the way there because—well. It  _hurts_. Fred shields her from everyone they pass and talks under his breath to her—"just one more corridor, almost there, gonna bloody rip their heads off." She thinks the last one may not have been for her to hear, but she does anyways.

Her mind isn't fully there as Madam Pomfrey works. The pain is bearable, but it's so constant that Hermione can't shift her mind from it, even as Fred tries talking to her about  _Hogwarts: A History_  and his current course work in spell theory. He talks about how he and George have gone to most of their classes, but they've turned in less than half of their homework. He quickly switches the subject to a charm they're creating a cream to remove bruises instantly (" _unfortunately it doesn't help with your current situation_ ") when he notices that she's finally giving him attention about his missed assignments.

Madam Pomfrey pays little care to Fred's ramblings as she gives Hermione a potion and lathers her hands in some sort of balm. After letting Hermione's hands sit for twenty minutes with the balm, Madam Pomfrey rinses them carefully and applies a different, thicker cream to Hermione's hands. She wraps them up in bandages, so large that when put together, they're the same size as her head.

When Madam Pomfrey finally seems to be finished, she tells Hermione to return tomorrow at breakfast to have the bandages removed and the cream changed. "They should be back to normal within the next day or two, but notify me immediately if any new symptoms arise."

"Of course," Hermione agrees. "Thank you so much."

Madam Pomfrey smiles. "It's not a problem dear."

Fred leads her out of the infirmary then. She's prepared to head to Herbology but Fred is quick to snake his arm around her waist. "Not so quick," he says. "How much breakfast did you get?"

Hermione shrugs. "I got enough, I suppose."

"Right, come along with me," Fred demands.

She thinks about protesting, but, well. She's three weeks ahead in Herbology and she did only manage a few links of sausage earlier,  _plus_  she'll never miss a chance to visit the house-elves, even if she had just seen them the day before. She hasn't missed a single class all term; she thinks she'll be alright.

When they reach the kitchens, Fred herds her through the door and ecstatic cheers greet them.

Hermione says hi to all the elves that gather around her legs. Three of them in particular—Pippit, Gren, and Tuly—are the ones she sees the most and they're the first to notice her hands.

Gren gasps when he sees. "Miss Granger is hurt?"

Pippit and Tuly cry out and usher her over to a seat. She laughs at their overzealous behavior. "Just a little injury."

Tuly grips at her shirt (given to her by Hermione after days of reassurance—" _it will hardly mean you have to leave Hogwarts. Dumbledore is your master, not me!_ ") and tugs anxiously. "Is Miss Hermione okay?"

"Perfectly fine," she smiles.

"Perfectly fine but hungry," Fred says, still over by the doorway. Two house-elves are hanging off his robes. "Miss Hermione didn't get to eat her breakfast this morning."

Pippit launches himself towards the oven. "Pippit will make the chocolate waffles, Miss Hermione!"

The other elves scramble around, asking Fred what he'd like, bringing their plates and silverware to them, and getting them drinks. Dobby sets an orange juice in front of Hermione. He smiles at her.

"Hello, Dobby. How is Winky today?"

Dobby's ears droop. "Winky is still drinking, she is."

Hermione sighs. Winky is the reason that she's begun incorporating a specialized therapist into her S.P.E.W. proposal—a therapist to help a house-elf through when they've been fired, freed, or their  _master_  (Hermione still despises that word) has died. The only thing she's not pleased about is such a thing doesn't exist now to help Winky. When she had tried to speak with her the day before, Winky was crying too hard to hear a word of what Hermione was saying. To try and avoid upsetting the elf further (and build trust), Hermione had apologized for Winky's sadness and wished her well before moving away. She has a feeling that it will be a lot of allowing Winky to cry before the elf can manage a single word.

Fred asks Dobby a question then—something about Dobby's upcoming vacation, and a few of the house-elves that are closer to them glance over, ears perked up. Their eyes are bright and curious and Hermione feels a surge of success in her chest.

She looks across the table to Fred, who is focused fully on the house-elf in front of him, and smiles. She wonders how different things would be without Fred by her side. She can't imagine that life, but she doesn't need to. He's here in this life.

*\

Hermione ended up almost thirty minutes late to her History of Magic exam, but completed it with ease well within the allotted time. There had only been two students left after her and neither were Ron, so she made her way to the Great Hall.

She made a mental note to thank Sirius later. Had it not been for her knowledge of Sirius, James, and Peter having broken the law regarding animagus registration, the thought of Rita Skeeter being unregistered never would have crossed her mind. Once her mind got stuck on how Rita had been  _bugging_  Harry and the others, she kept drifting back to the beetle. Now she just had to be vigilant.

The Great Hall is exploding with noise when she gets there. Harry and the Weasleys' are sitting near the front of the hall and it takes her almost a full minute to reach them. When she does, she taps Fred on the shoulder. "Fred? Can you move—oh, thank you." Fred slides down easily and she settles into a seat between Fred and Ron, directly across from Harry.

"How did you test go?" Fred asks. His voice sounds concerned. "You were in there for a while."

Hermione looks away from him under the guise of filling her plate. She knows it won't fool him, but at least she won't have to watch the disbelief take over. "I actually ended up late for the exam."

George drops his fork to his plate on the other side of Fred and coughs. He leans around his twin and narrows his eyes. "I'm sorry,  _what?_ "

"It was a one time thing!" Hermione huffs.

Across the table, Harry starts to ask, "are you going to tell us—?"

Hermione widens her eyes and shakes her head. She flicks her eyes to Mrs. Weasley and Harry seems to get the picture.

"Hello, Hermione," Mrs. Weasley finally greets her as well, but her voice is cold and unkind.

"Hello." Hermione tries smiling. Mrs. Weasley pays no mind, and the smile slips from her face. She turns to look at Ron, at Ginny, the twins. Had she done something?

"Mrs. Weasley, you didn't believe that rubbish Rita Skeeter wrote in  _Witch Weekly_ , did you? Because Hermione's not my girlfriend," Harry says. Hermione shifts uncomfortably in her seat; she had almost forgotten all about those articles now that she' figured out just how to catch her.

Mrs. Weasley sits up straight. "Oh! No, of course I didn't!"

Hermione thinks she might have been lying as the next words out of Mrs. Weasley's mouth towards Hermione were warm and through a genuine smile. She asks about how her exams have gone and how her parents are, and Hermione answers respectfully.

"And how about you two, how are your exams?" Mrs. Weasley frowns at the twins. "Or would I rather not know?"

"Well enough," George shrugs. "You probably wouldn't like to know the amount of assignments we missed, but we've passed each exam so far this term. We'll have to wait to hear back about final exams, but we're not worried."

"We need to pass our N.E.W.T.s so Hermione will have to admit we're better than her," Fred jokes.

Hermione rolls her eyes at them. "That wasn't the deal and I would never tell such a lie."

Ginny's face lights up. "There was a deal?"

"About their O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s, yes," Hermione says. She gives Ginny a look, hoping to convey that she would tell the girl later.

"About their O.W.L.s?" Mrs. Weasley asks. "What do you mean?"

Fred laughs. "We were being lax about our O.W.L.s at the end of last term. We would have only gotten maybe half the scores we did without 'Mine pushing us."

"'Mione made a deal with us," George tells his mum, "and we're going to make sure she has to follow through on her part."

"What was the deal?" Ron asks.

"Well, we can't tell you that, Ronnikins," George says.

"Ruin the whole surprise, wouldn't it?" Fred says.

Hermione rolls her eyes. "It won't be a  _surprise_ , Fred, I could just as easily—"

Fred snakes his arm around her shoulders and covers her mouth. "Now, now, 'Mine. It'd hardly be fair if you got to choose the losing terms of this bet."

Hermione ducks out from his hold, hoping her red face can be written-off by her annoyance, and scoffs. "I never made a bet! I gave you an ultimatum!"

"Those are the same things to us."

"They are not! They are definitively  _very_  different things!"

"Not to us," George shrugs.

"I'm getting you a dictionary for Christmas," she says.

"Oh, good," Fred says, "we still have six months to pretend we don't know the definitions of words."

" _Pretend?_ " Hermione says with a quirked eyebrow.

"Yes, we thought pretend was defined as 'show,'" George says.

Fred bobs his head and points at his twin. "Why, do we have the wrong word?"

Hermione stares at the two. "You know, I think I need to make up for being late to my last exam by being early to Transfiguration." She turns to everyone else at the table and bids them good-bye, and reassures a panicked Ron that she's just leaving early; he doesn't have to leave yet. She does not say good-bye to the twins.

As she's turning her back, Bill asks, "did she guess you two right by the backs of your heads?"

"Oh, that's right!" Ginny gasps. "You haven't gotten the lecture on how to tell the twins apart! Ron gave it to me after his first year…"

*\

Voldemort is back.

Voldemort killed Cedric Diggory.

Voldemort tried to kill Harry Potter— _again_.

Voldemort is living, breathing,  _killing_  again.

Hermione can only think of protecting as many people as she can. Every second these thoughts run through her head:  _how can I keep my family safe? How can I keep my friends safe? How can I keep my school safe?_

The library gives her nothing. Even with Viktor helping her read through as many books as they can, there isn't a single thing she can do that Hogwarts hasn't done already. She's not sure why she thought there would be something that Dumbledore hasn't thought of, but she's let down by their lack of success nonetheless.

She's a target. She is, easily.

She's a muggleborn, she's Harry Potter's best friend, and she's helped chase Voldemort back in to hiding twice now.

She's a target, and seeing how carelessly Voldemort and his followers killed Cedric, she knows that that not only could that just as easily have been her, but also it could easily be anyone she's close to.

Her parents have no protection, and if Voldemort or his followers ever think of using bait, Hermione knows her parents would be a completely reasonable option to get to her. She'd be a completely reasonable option to get to Harry. How is she supposed to deal with these thoughts running through her head?

Around this time last year, Hermione had told Fred that Harry's battles were her battles because he was her friend. This isn't true anymore.

Harry's battles are now her battles because there's just at much at stake for Hermione as there is for Harry. It doesn't comfort her at all that she'd read about Death Eaters killing families of muggleborns to remove any traces of  _impure_  magic lines. Beyond that, the Death Eaters killed muggles for fun, for bragging rights, for some twisted sense of pride.

Hermione has never thought of herself as a coward, but she's thought about taking her parents and fleeing to safety more than she cares to admit. It's just—well. She can't lose her parents.

In her next thought, she also acknowledges that she also can't lose Fred, or Harry, or Alicia, or— _any of her friends_.

It's overwhelming just to think about. At fifteen years old she is being thrust head first in to a war whose target is her and her closest friends.

So, her last week at Hogwarts is spent largely in the library with Viktor and her other friends researching. It's a good week despite her thoughts weighing her down, though it's also a reminder of how much is at stake every time she looks around her. In the end, she can confidently say that she's relieved to leave the school for the first time in her Hogwarts career.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up before we get in to the end notes, I don't know how to link here but a) citrusorgans has a new fic out that I got to beta and it's incredible and i highly suggest you go read it and also b) they also beta read this chapter and fixed all of my dumb mistakes (any mistakes left are my own, especially since i changed quite a bit) and gave me wonderful pointers and that brings us to c) SCROLL ALL THE WAY BACK UP AND LOOK AT THAT ARTWORK AGAIN. it's incredible and i'm in love
> 
> So I feel like GoF is the most common Fremione fic inspo (the Fred finding her after/during the Yule Ball), so I tried to keep it a lil different. Don’t get me wrong—I could read hundreds of fics about Fred finding her after she's run off, but with her and Fred already having a deep friendship, I thought maybe a different route, ESPECIALLY because she also has Alicia, Katie, and Angelina (and Ginny, though she plays a much smaller role in this chapter than past/future chapters because honestly I referenced the books HEAVILY when writing this and Ginny… was not in GOF that much? And I didn’t even notice until much later and??? So sorry, Gin, didn’t mean to do you wrong like this). Of course I still wanted to get a bit of Fremione/Yule Ball in there. 
> 
> If you haven’t realized by now, I likely am not going to finish this by the end of June like originally planned. OOTP is the chapter that needs the most written out of the remaining chapters (it has 8k now and I haven't touched on the majority of the school year, that will be the longest chapter in this fic and this chapter is 16k so...........), and summer classes are really taking a toll on me. I do still plan to have this complete by the time summer is through (we’re probably looking at about a month wait for OOTP and then hopefully 2-3 weeks or shorter per HBP, DH, and the epilogue). 
> 
> I just want to thank everyone who has read, kudos, bookmarked, and commented. This was something I wrote just for myself to have and I’m so glad that you’re all enjoying it so much. I appreciate each and every one of you. 
> 
> FINALLY, some of you may have noticed this has been turned in to a series. I have started working on short little ficlets from Fred’s POV that are directly from this verse. Those won’t start posting until this fic is complete because I want to make sure my main focus still remains on making this fic what I want it to be, but. Those do exist, and they will be coming eventually! 
> 
> (jk this is finally: i also have a tumblr now! same name, raquians, if you wanna follow! i think i might post lil previews and updates and also i'd be more than happy to answer any questions about this verse or harry potter in general!)

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone was wondering, Hermione’s parents got her the first books from the Shannara Chronicles. 
> 
> In the books, can you actually write with Sugar Quills? I don’t know. Let’s pretend you can’t and Lee and the twins made it so Hermione could. 
> 
> The whole ‘Mine thing IS gonna be a whole thing, and there will be jokes about Hermione “being Fred’s,” but in no way does he ever try to control her, does she ever feel claimed, etc. This was a discussion I had with a friend who spoke with me as I wrote it, but—honestly? Through the course of this fic, this is probably one of the healthiest relationships you will read about. Fred and Hermione mean a great deal to me as individual characters and as a ship and I could never ruin them with toxicity. I don’t want that nickname scaring you off. 
> 
> Thank you sincerely for giving this a chance. I hope this does each character justice over the story we're about to take. 
> 
> Any comments are genuinely loved and feedback would be appreciated. I am very American so Britpicking is more than welcome!


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